Measure of Trust
by Jenmeister
Summary: Dean's daydreams are of an average life while Faith's nightmares link her to a world of vampires & ghosts. When the connection becomes more than a dream & slips into reality, Faith and Dean will have to work together to survive. She has her secrets and he has his past. They'll both need an ounce of patience and a measure of trust. - COMPLETE
1. Ch 1 - Don't Question It

**Chapter 1 - Don't Question It**

 _Tuesday_

Dean exited the front door of the Winston County morgue in Double Springs Alabama with Sam's long strides following.

"C'mon Sammy!" Dean teased good naturedly. A smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"No man! I'm not calling her." A note of finality in Sam's voice. Clad in their best FBI suites and fake badges the brothers had just persuaded the beautiful and charming coroner to let them examine the paperwork from bodies of two teenage boys related to their current case. The coroner in return had been very keen on examining Sam.

"Seriously, dude, when was the last time you got laid?" Dean said with a laugh.

Always quick witted, Sam replied, "Probably more recently than you!"

Dean scoffed.

The brotherly banter continued as they climbed into the sleek black Impala parked at the curb.

"What's with you lately?"

Dean had been in a rare good mood for several days despite the seemingly endless string of hunts and sleep deprivation.

"I don't know man. Just feeling good! These last few hunts have gone off without a hitch. Guess I shouldn't be too optimistic cause it probably just means shits about to hit the fan." Dean replied lightly as he smoothly turned the key in the ignition and reached for the volume knob on the radio.

::::::

They rolled back into the small town of Lynn well after dark. Bobby Jo's Corner Stop Cafe had been the best source of information especially since it was the only restaurant in town. Sam and Dean placed their usual order of chicken Caesar salad and bacon cheeseburger with the house special, pecan pie, for dessert.

Sam perused the Lynn Journal once more soaking in every detail of the stories covering the two high school seniors' deaths. Lynn Alabama hadn't seen more than a few high school pranks or a drunken night gone wrong in nearly 20 years. So, the two boys who had ventured into the supposedly haunted Frazier Mansion on a dare and were found dead in the gardener's shed had been very big news the past week.

"So, I say we hit the graveyard, dig up dear Mrs. Frazier, and light her up before any more of these kids decide to be ghost hunters." Dean stated matter of factly between bites.

"It does look like she's our killer." The Frazier Mansion on highway 5 had been empty for years until recently when a paranormal society was granted permission to investigate. Dean's immediate response to this news..."Freakin' armatures." The story behind the estate was legend in the small community. Mary T-Smith had married Allen Frazier, the town drunk, in the 1920's immediately after a distant relative of Allen's had passed away leaving him a large inheritance.

"Poor bastard. Ole Allen finds himself a gold diggin' wife and she knocks him off after tying the knot." Dean said between bites.

Allen's body had been found in the dining room with 16 stab wounds from a large kitchen knife. The two boys had been found stabbed in an identical fashion leaving little doubt as to the culprit.

The sounds of AC/DC's Highway to Hell drifted up from Dean's faded leather jacket pocket. He gulped down the last bite of his burger, "This is Agent Dylan…She what?…Okay, I'll go over there right now…No, don't worry…I'm sure she's fine." Pulling the phone from his ear and disengaging the call "She is not gonna be fine."

"What's up?"

"One of the dead kid's girlfriend is headed to the Frazier house. That was her mom calling to let us know." Moving quickly from their seats Dean gave orders, "I'll head to the house. You hit the graveyard...and make it quick."

::::::

Dean's flashlight beam cut through the dark sitting room of the Frazier house revealing dusty overturned furniture strewn across the plank floorboards. The air was stale with a bitter tinge of a fire recently put out. Dean's senses were heightened searching for any presence, ghost or human. The EMF meter was notably silent as the old house groaned and creaked in protest of each boot step.

"Molly?" Dean called out just above a whisper. "Molly?"

Stepping closer to the doorway leading to the dining room, he uncomfortably shifted the weight of his sawed off shotgun. Dean was no stranger to the presence of a ghost or a monster, but the overwhelming urge to look over his shoulder was more than a presence. He could feel the weight of someone's gaze. He wasn't alone. Before he could analyze the feeling any more, he swung the flashlight beam into the dining room where it landed directly on a body lying awkwardly across a dining room table devoid of chairs. "Molly."

The EMF spiked and the temperature dropped sending a chill up his body. A plume of warm breath escaped his mouth and the flashlight beam began to flicker.

"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered just as a young dark haired woman dressed in a 1920's dinner gown sparked into being just inside the doorway to his left. He leveled the sawed off at the menacing figure and fired. Salt rock exploded across the space causing the figure to dissipate into a cloud of dust. Dean raced to the table knowing each moment was precious. "Molly? Molly! C'mon girl! Wake up!" He reached for a pulse and found a weak heartbeat. Mrs. Frazier's distorted figure reappeared directly across the table. Dean could see that the years in the vale had not been kind to what had once probably been a beautiful woman. She screeched and writhed as she flew across the table knocking Dean flat on his back. The flashlight and EMF slid in one direction and the shotgun in another. Winded, Dean was too slow in reaching for the weapon and Mrs. Frazier cackled as she took advantage by knocking it another five feet away. "C'mon Sammy!" Dean shouted as if Sam could hear his pleas. He rose to his knees and dove for the sawed off once more. Mrs. Frazier appeared between him and his target taking him by the throat and raising him into the air. Dean fought against her vice grip with every ounce of energy he could muster, but his lungs began to burn and black spots popped in the edges of his vision as he began losing the battle. The grip began to loosen and flames licked at the bottom of Mrs. Frazier's ghostly form. Dean fell to a crumpled gasping heap on the planked floor just as Mrs. Frazier's sharp shrill scream pierced the night and she disappeared in an explosion of flames.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. This story was originally written with the first few chapters in a different order, but decided to rearrange them recently. Truthfully, you shouldn't be able to tell, but if something seems a little off in the first 7 chapters just chock it up to my obsessive need for order:)

A side note...might have to up the rating later on down the road for some language and suggestive scenes. Still haven't quite decided. As the story progresses I'd love your opinion on it.

Thank you so much for reading! It makes my day!  
Enjoy, beautiful people! xo,Jen


	2. Ch 2 - Come And Get It

**Chapter 2 - Come and Get It**

 _Wednesday_

Wednesday afternoon found Sam and Dean in the mountains of north Georgia headed for the tourist town of Helen.

Dean was relishing the drive as the Impala gracefully roared around every curve, up each incline, and down each steep descent. The sounds of Steppenwolf's Born to Be Wild punctuated the crisp clear mountain air pushing through the slightly opened windows beating in time with the punch of the motor.

Sam broke Dean's blissful moment with another piece of information he had just discovered in his research of their newest case. "It says here that people have gone missing all over the area and not just in Helen."

"They must be adding new members to the clan." Dean said in reference to the suspected growing vampire situation. Only one bloodless body had been found in an alley behind Cowboys and Angels Bar. However, the missing persons list had grown exponentially over the last two months. "I'll check the local establishments where people typically gather and share information. And you can hit the books."

"So...you're going to the bar." Sam rolled his eyes as Dean grinned.

::::::

After a brief conversation with the local police, they checked into a motel on the outskirts of town just as the skies began to cloud. Choosing the only remaining room with two beds, Sam and Dean deposited duffle bags onto each and then sat down to research the local news articles and police reports at the small round table by the window. Sam's fingers tapped the keyboard as he perused each local website for tidbits of useful intel. Dean intermittently read the police reports, paced the room, glanced out the window...and hummed. Quietly he began to sing, but with each phrase he got louder. "It's the way you love me. It's a feeling like this. It's centrifugal motion. It's perpetual bliss. It's that pivotal moment. It's unthinkable. Ah! This kiss! This kiss!...da da da da…"

Sam's head shot up to glare at Dean in annoyance and absolute amazement. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Dean's eyes grew wide as he realized what he was doing. He shrugged and attempted to formulate a response, but words escaped him.

"How do you even know that song?"

"Dude, I have absolutely no freaking idea!" He said in complete bewilderment. "It sounded like some hippie chick music!"

Sam laughed, "It's Faith Hill's song that came out in, like, the late 90's. It's called This Kiss."

"How do you even know this stuff?" Dean slid back into his seat and thought for a moment. Debating the situation in his mind he opted for openness with his sibling. "I don't know man. It's like I've been on this high, but at the same time I keep feeling like I'm being watched and hearing...I don't know...like...voices or music."

"Hearing voices, Dean? Really?" Sam scoffed.

Dean ran a hand through his tousled hair, "I sound crazy. I know. I just can't explain it."

::::::

A few hours later found Dean sitting at the tourist filled Cowboys and Angels Bar with a highball glass of whiskey nearly empty. His good mood from the past few days was quickly waning with the beginnings of a headache. Downing the last sip, he stepped away from the overly lit and overly energetic bar and headed for the men's room. Dean splashed cold water on his face and then braced his hands on the slick white ceramic counter. He stared intently at his own reflection letting his thoughts wander over the events of the previous few days, when he noticed that his eyes seemed a bit more blue than green. He leaned in until his nose nearly touched the glass. "What the hell?!" He whispered reaching a cautious finger to his eye.

"Dean!" Sam burst through the door breathless. "It's here."

Pushing his headache and eye color situation aside, he focused on the task at hand. "Lucky break. Okay, I'll circle around to the alley. You check the back by the river." The plan was to capture the vampire and force it to disclose the location of the nest.

A misting rain hazed the long dark alley, as Dean stepped out the side door. His worn boots echoed off the dripping brick walls. A solitary light flickered and buzzed casting intermittent shadows across the wet pavement. Silently a figure appeared at the edge of the light's glow. The vampire flashed razor sharp claws and raised it's head. A deep hissing noise escaped the blood stained mouth. Dean stopped and slowly unsheathed his machete strapped to his side while simultaneously pressing his pocket to ensure the syringe of dead man's blood was still secure. Lowering his chin menacingly, Dean's gravely voice echoed through the corridor as he taunted, "Come and get it, douchebag." The monster's head tilted with a wild snarling grin and for a moment there was a palpable silence. Dean took a deep breathe, adjusted his grip on the hilt, and surged forward in unison with the vampire. Dean swung the blade catching his assailant across the left arm and chest. The vampire screeched in pain and retaliated with a wide swinging set of claws. Dean effectively dodged the blow, spun on his heels and elbowed the beast across the back causing it to hunch momentarily. Confidently he reached for a headlock, but the vampire had already regained it's footing and took advantage of Dean's exposed abdomen. It drug claws deeply across Dean's right arm slicing through his layers and cutting into flesh. As Dean attempted to hold his ground waiting for backup, the blood thirsty vampire tackled him. Dean's breath escaped him just before he heard a sharp crack as his skull connected with pavement. The vampire had it's prey pinned. It's sticky breath was only inches from Dean's ear as it pressed fangs to his face. Dean could barely hear over the pounding in his head and his vision was clouded with bright white sparks as he struggled to take in oxygen and continue his fight against the weight pressing him to the ground. A familiar swoosh was followed by a distinct gurgle as blood escaped the vampire's mouth. A crimson line grew across its neck just as the head began to slide sideways and downwards. Dean moved his head to the left as the monster's head slipped to the ground and rolled away. Sam pulled the remains away and reached a steady hand out to his brother, "Hey...you alright?"

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters.

I really hope you enjoy! Please review, leave a note, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! xo,Jen


	3. Ch 3 - In Her Eyes part 1

**Chapter 3 - In Her Eyes ~** _**part 1**_

 _Thursday_

Body disposal and cleanup done, the brothers finally pulled into the parking lot of the motel about 3 am exhausted and disappointed. Sam efficiently bandaged Dean's torn arm and after several rounds of arguing,coercion and threats Dean was finally persuaded to take the pain meds. Nearly an hour later, he slowly drifted off to sleep to the sounds of rain pattering against the roof and Sam's light snoring in the next bed.

...

Sunlight played across the blue hood reflecting into the vehicle and then abruptly vanished as it entered an indoor parking garage. A woman's hands gripped the black leather bound steering wheel and guided the vehicle into a narrow space on the second floor. Exiting the vehicle. Near silent footfalls sounded as the elevator drew nearer. A short ride down to street level and the doors slide open to reveal a busy street lined with live oaks draped with long tendrils of Spanish moss. The sun glinted between the clouds and fading leafy canopy as eye contact was made with a passing stranger. Crossing at the intersection into a small office building and up another elevator that played a predictable melody from the corner speaker. The doors opened slowly to a short brown hallway. Brown walls, brown carpet, brown ceiling, royal blue door, bold white font "Bender & Co. Media Consulting & Production", silver door knob. Moving through the entry progress was made to a small kitchenette. Wisps of steam rose from the freshly poured coffee. The hands added a generous helping of cream then wrapped around the cup. Several steps and a seat later, a computer came to life with beeps and dings of calendar reminders, emails, events, and notifications. Things were arranged and rearranged on the desk before the slender fingers began tapping away on the keyboard.

...

Sam walked through the door shuffling takeout bags and coffees. Dean's bare back rose and fell evenly setting Sam's mind at rest. He probably should not have let him sleep so long considering that he most likely had a concussion.

"Dean, wake up. We've got to find that nest this afternoon." Sam hovered for a moment before stepping back to the table where he was loading his laptop back into his backpack.

Sleepily Dean rubbed his eyes, "K, I'm up. What's for breakfast?" He gingerly ran fingers across the back of his tender scalp and down his neck. His head was throbbing and Sam stood in a blur a few feet away.

"There's a couple of biscuits, hash browns, and coffee."

"Hmmm.." Dean rumbled as he moved towards the bathroom, jeans slung low across his waist and his arm still wrapped from his injury the night before.

After relieving himself he stood before the small vanity, washed his hands, and splashed cool water on his face. As he finished wiping away the moisture with the rough white cloth he looked up into the mirror. His eyes locked with the reflection. The eyes looking back at him were misty blue pools that held his gaze in a vice grip. Emotions washed over him in unrepressed torrents and visions of a very different life flipped like a picture book across his mind: stained glass windows and wooden pulpits, a loving mother and father, an oppressive older brother, school books and classrooms, a wedding, a man screaming and raising a hand to strike, running in the dark, a small turtle, steaming coffee, warm glowing lights from a small yellow house, reaching for the silver knob of a blue door marked with a scripted "hello".

"Dean? You alright in there?" Sam's voice filtered through the door breaking the blue eyed spell that held Dean captive in that moment. He squeezed his burning eyes shut and involuntary tears spilled from the corner of his eyes.

"Fine. Be out in a minute."

::::::

During the night another vampire had attacked in the neighboring town of Blairsville leaving its victim without a drop a blood.

The Impala roared up to the scene just behind the Armadillo Bar & Grille causing heads to turn. Spectators were not disappointed when two breathtakingly handsome men wearing black suits and ties stepped out of the sleek black classic and strode purposefully towards the yellow tape.

"Agents Mercury and Young, FBI." Sam spouted authoritatively to the local badge.

"I didn't know the Feds was interested in animal attacks!" Slight astonishment registering in his southern drawl and on the short rotund officer's features. Red hair peeked out the back of his snap back ball cap as Officer Blakely looked briefly at the fake identification and immediately up to the two tall black clad brothers. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised though what with all the missing persons going on too. Ya think they might be related? A'course it might just all be co-incidental."

"What've we got?" Dean asked impatient to move the conversation forward.

Officer Blakely led Sam and Dean away from the yellow tape line and towards a still form covered by a white sheet. Pulling it away to reveal a middle aged brunette, he said, "She was found this morning about 10 when Jeb over there...He's the owner...when he showed up to do some office work. This place is always hopping…"

Sam cut in before the exceptionally chatty officer could continue, "Were there any witnesses last night? Or maybe some cameras?"

"Well, actually…" he paused for effect, "we did talk to some of the patrons last night and Miz Jenkins over there said she saw the victim hanging around with a fella. She…"

"Can we talk to her?" Dean interrupted.

"Sure, but I'd make it quick cause she's a bit upset. Seems she and the victim were good acquaintances." Officer Blakely answered with sympathetic note and a mild gesture over his shoulder to Ms. Jenkins.

"Miss Jenkins?" Sam questioned as he and Dean approached.

"Yes?" Ms. Jenkins 5'7" frame was slightly hunched with arms crossed over her ample chest. Her salt and pepper hair whipped away from her face in the sudden gust of wind revealing a worried face creased with a slight wrinkle in her forehead. Her brown eyes flicked from one brother to the next and then back to the first.

Dean's face was set in a hard line. "Agents Mercury and Young, FBI. You were here last night?"

"Yes." She said as she glanced down to her shifting feet. "Just had to get out of the house, ya know."

"So, did you see the victim with anyone?" Sam gently pressed.

Her eyes darted up to Sam, "Umm, yeah. Sharon was hanging around with this dark haired fella at the end of the bar. They were all cozy, ya know. He was way too young for her...probably in his late 20's, early 30's. He was good looking and bout as tall as you." She gestured to Dean.

"Did you happen to see him leave?"

"I stepped out to the patio for a quick smoke and saw him pulling off on a shiny silver motorcycle. I remember noticing cause I thought it was odd Sharon wasn't with him after all the lip locking." At the mention of a smoke, she reached a shaky hand to her back denim pocket. "Mind if I?"

"No, go ahead." Sam nodded.

As she lit the cigarette she finished answering, "Anyway, he headed off towards the intersection down there. He got on the highway that goes towards the state park."

Noticing her continual shifting Dean pressed her, "Is that it?" Sam glanced at Dean's face recognizing that look of distrust; eyebrows up and thin lips.

"Ummm…" she took another puff. "I saw that same bike on my way over here this morning parked down by the Miller's pond on Trackrock Gap road. There wasn't anybody out fishing though. Nearest place is the old Miller farm, but it's been vacant for nearly 15 years." She paused, dropped the remainder of the cigarette and put it out with the toe of her sneaker. "That's all. Can I go now. I got to get to work. I'm already late."

Sam flashed a small smile, "Sure. Thank you for your time."

He waited until she was out of earshot, "Something's definitely up with her."

"Yep. I'll follow her and you see what you can get from our officer friend." Dean gestured over Sam's shoulder to Officer Blakely and quickly walked away when Sam followed his cue to check left.

"Dean…" Sam whispered harshly turning to find Dean halfway to the Impala. He rolled his eyes, resigned to his fate, and walked towards the back of Armadillo's where the officer had cornered Jeb. "Officer Blakely. Just a few more questions…"

::::::

Dean let the Impala roll silently to a stop behind an abandoned office building on the other end of town. His instincts had proven him right yet again. Ms. Jenkins nervously knocked on the side door of the mildewed white sided structure and stepped back. Dean made sure the breeze was blowing in his favor to conceal his scent, just in case the occupants were not human, and ducked behind the empty crates stacked near the corner. His initial assumption for her behavior was drug addiction but her face was smooth except for the marks of age, she had no visible needle marks, and her eyes were crystal clear with fear. The door opened slightly with a sharp squeak and a figure stood shadowed in the doorway.

"I did as you asked." She said clasping her hands together. "Now can I have my son back... Please!" Her hushed voice shook with the anguish of a mother's heartbreak and tears glistened on her cheeks in the sunlight.

The reply was indecipherable as a large truck clamored down the nearby highway. Dean strained to catch the remainder of the conversation only hearing a few words here and there. It was clear he had found a link to the nest. And even more clear that they knew the Winchester brothers were in town and on the hunt.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters.

I'd really love to hear your opinion, so leave a review and let me know what you think! xo,Jen


	4. Ch 4 - In Her Eyes part 2

**Chapter 4 - In Her Eyes ~** _ **part 2**_

 _Thursday_

Dean watched a broken-hearted Ms. Jenkins leave without her son and opted to wait for the shadowy occupants to emerge and head for their next destination which was almost certainly the nest. He pulled the Impala to a safe distance with a good vantage point, changed into his usual plaid and denim layers in the tall grass, then kicked back in the driver's seat with Metallica and a bag full of gummy bears. He called Sam and let him know about Ms. Jenkins' son and his current location.

"I'm gonna keep digging here. I'll catch up with you before it gets dark."

"Alright. Bring some grub when you come. There's nothing but kale chips in the glove box and those things are not fit to eat."

"They're better for you than those gummy bears you keep…"

"Sam." Dean cut him off with a hand raised in a halting gesture and his eyes lightly closed. "Don't knock my road food."

"Fine."

"Don't forget pie."

"I won't."

Dean ended the call and reached for the bag of gummy bears, "Better not."

::::::

Dean's enthusiasm waned as the sun slowly crossed the blue Georgia sky and began to reach for the horizon. The headache he'd been ignoring most of the day was on the rise. He let his head gently lean against the headrest and his eyes slide shut.

...

Rain was slapping against the windshield as the driver removed the key from the ignition. The smooth alto of a woman's voice sounded muted beneath the onslaught of rain, "Great." The door opened with immediate regret and the scene became blurred with the downpour. Soaked. Cold. Annoyed. "No singing tonight, Mr. Flip." the voice echoed slightly across the large off white tiles of the floor. The kitchen stretched into a small dining room. To the left the wall turned into a short bar devoid of decoration except for a small tank lit inside with a stark white light. A tiny turtle stood with outstretched neck on a flat tan rock as if sunning beneath the glow above. Forward movement. Wet feet crossed cold tiles to the comfort of carpet and into a dimly lit living room continuing on to a spacious bedroom. Wet clothes began to drop in a pile, layer by layer, till there was nothing but cold. No movement. Eyes locking with the reflection in the mirror...

...

"A steak-out requires you actually watch the place." Sam said through the open driver's side window.

Dean looked almost blissful with his head tilted back, eyes closed, and a smile on his face. His eyes slid open and he yawned as Sam climbed into the passenger seat with bags of food and a tray of sodas. Apparently he had been there a few moments because he was freshly clad in denim and plaid. "Oh man, what a dream." Dean said with a stretch.

Sam took a sip from his drink. "Was it like the last one? Everyday life type thing?"

"Even better!" Dean said with raised eyebrows as he rifled through the bags of food. "I think it was that same girl, but this time I saw her face...and a whole lot more." His voice dripping with innuendo.

"Agh! Gross! I don't want to hear about your wet dreams!"

Shadows on the ground were growing longer by the minute as the sun pushed below the horizon. Just as Dean took the first bite of his pie, two shadowy figures emerged from the faded white building. "Son of a bitch." Dean muttered around the mouthful. He covered the remainder of the slice and started the engine just after the motorcycle fired up.

They followed at a safe distance back through town and down the highway towards the location Ms. Jenkins had provided earlier that day. As the motorcycle turned down the dirt road to the abandoned Miller farm, Dean turned off the Impala's headlights. They watched as the bike wound down the dusty road, past the pond, and out of sight over a hill. Slowly Dean rolled the car down the dirt drive and into a stand of trees near the edge of the rise. The Impala was hidden from prying eyes and the brothers had a good view back down the path to the main road. Exiting the vehicle and moving stealthily through the edge of the woods both hunters let their experience and instincts guide each movement. A faint glow emanated from the barn that stood in a field away from the dilapidated main farm house. The flashy motorcycle was nowhere to be seen. There were no vehicles at all. Sam and Dean crouched low in the tall grass at the edge of the tree line coming as close as they dared to the farm house and barn.

"They know we're coming." Sam whispered.

"I don't think the 'guns blazing' approach is gonna work this time. We need a plan."

At that moment the front door to the barn opened slightly and a tall wide figure stepped into the night. His muscles reflected the glow of the room just before he closed the door and began circling the structure.

Dean gestured for Sam to follow him back up to the Impala. He had a truly awful idea, but they had to save the innocent and stop the monsters from killing or recruiting again.

::::::

It was late into the night when Dean circled to the front of the barn keeping his lean frame pressed to the side of the structure. As usual, Sam had thoroughly disliked his plan but had reluctantly agreed because the remaining options were far worse. Both brothers were covered in a mixture of saffron, skunk cabbage and trillium ashes to block the vamps from catching their scent. Dean took three near silent steps behind the formidable guard, quickly raised his blade and sliced through his neck in one smooth motion. The sound of the body gurgling and falling to the ground immediately drew attention. As the barn doors swung open wide, two perfectly silhouetted figures stood side by side halfway up the inclined road. Sam's voice was crystal clear in the cool night, "They've spotted us. Run!" The figures crested the top of the hill and disappeared.

The five vampires that stood in the doorway turned to look at their leader. "You four, go after them. You stand guard." The four took off at an incredible speed towards the hill. "And don't let your guard down for a moment. If their reputation is to be believed, these Winchesters are not to be taken lightly." The leader turned back to the glow of the barn and left the lone guard standing uneasy in the dark.

Dean chanced a look around the corner of the barn and found the young guard walking in the opposite direction. _So far, so good._ He circled around meeting the guard with a blade at the back corner and covering his mouth as he gently released his body on the ground. Sam's tall silent form approached from the far tree line behind the farmhouse. With a nod of understanding the two moved to a small door at the corner near where the guard's body lay. Dean gripped the wooden latch and pushed gingerly, but with no results. He pressed harder knowing that with each move their risk of detection grew. Suddenly the latch gave way with a slight scrape and the hunters entered the lamp light of the barn. Stalls lined the wall directly to their right blocking their view and concealing their entrance. On the far wall a narrow set of stairs lead to the second floor which only took up half the size of the barn. Sam and Dean crouched on the dirt floor littered with hay. Sam tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear and glanced around the half wall. He moved his lips silently, "Two near the front." Dean nodded and in unison they emerged from their hiding spot. Confident and fierce they moved quickly toward their targets. A male and female both appearing to be near 25 were prepared for the brothers approach and snarled through their fangs. Sam lunged and swung his machete, but the monster anticipated his move and slung him across the wide space into a large pile of hay. As he found his way to the surface, Dean sliced through the female's neck from behind. The male screeched out in anger and heartbreak as his mate fell.

"I got this, Sammy! Go find Jenkins." Dean kept his eyes locked on his furious enemy. Anticipating the vampires movements, Dean was able to sidestep the main force of the attack catching only a glancing elbow to his right shoulder. With skill he maintained balance and swung the blade catching his opponent across the back and knocking him into the nearest beam. The impact caused hay and dirt to rain down over the stalls and two lanterns crashed to the ground. Shouts, pounding boots, and scuffling sounded from the floor above. Dean took a deep breath renewing his focus on the task at hand. The sooner he took down the vampire the sooner he could help his brother. With lightning speed the vampire came nose to nose with Dean and wrapped long bony fingers around his throat digging claws into the tender flesh. The machete fell to the ground with a thud just as smoke and flames began to rise from the stalls behind them.

The voice was low and threatening, "I am going to drink you dry, Winchester!"

"Not today, asshat." Dean thrust a syringe filled with dead man's blood into the unsuspecting vampire's side.

Immediately the monster released his grip and began to gasp. Dean staggered backwards for a moment coughing and gulping in oxygen then reached for his blade and beheaded the slumping form. Dean looked toward the stalls that were now consumed with fire and raced for the stairs. Taking them two by two he reached the top and took in the scene. A decapitated vampire lay across the floor near the stairs. Sam had blood on his shirt and sleeves but seemed intact as he hunched behind a young man attempting to undo his restraints. Three other victims sat scattered around the small space. All four had recently been fed on and were weak and helpless. "The barn's on fire. We've got to get them out fast!" Dean shouted over the pounding in his head and the roar of the fire. They moved quickly releasing each prisoner.

"Can you walk?" Sam asked the Jenkins boy. He nodded in response and slowly moved towards the stairs. Sam scooped up the young girl who had just passed out and followed. The last two were released and able to move with some assistance. Smoke was rising as Dean held onto one of the frail teenage girls and they descended the steps. When they reached the bottom of the stairs the girls latched onto one another and headed for the open door. Flames licked at the walls and ceiling of the structure quickly consuming every inch. Smoke filled his lungs and he struggled to breath. Dean took a few steps then braced himself on a beam still untouched by the flames. His head pounded and vision blurred. Screaming sound waves crashed over his mind shattering the reality around him. Involuntarily he released his machete, dropped to his knees and clutched his bleeding ears. He pushed against the invading force without success and succumbed to her fear.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters.

Thanks for reading! xo,Jen


	5. Ch 5 - No Ordinary Day

**Chapter 5 - No Ordinary Day**

 _Tuesday_

She let the smile of satisfaction slowly creep across her face as her fingers tapped methodically on the keyboard putting the finishing touches on the final report. Her recent trip to Seattle Washington had given her a lot to write about for the upcoming video series delving into the art world of major cities. Faith's consulting position at Bender Co. Media Consulting and Production was low on the food chain, but granted her the ability to travel and research first hand for each project her clients needed. If she did her job right, and she usually did, this series just might be the first to get picked up by a major television channel. _Travel Channel! Discovery! So many possibilities!_ Faith reigned her thoughts back to the task at hand. With a final tap on the keys and a click of the mouse she sent the document on its way. She stretched luxuriously with an audible sigh of relief and contentment. Carefully she pulled the worn glasses from her nose and placed them on the desk while her toes went in search of her shoes. Faith reveled in the satisfaction of a thing completed and whole. The ending of a task meant the beginning of something new, and that always thrilled her. After arranging her desk in preparations for the next morning, Faith rose, took her bag in hand and headed for the door. _5pm on the nose. Everything is coming up me today!_ It rarely happened, but today was one of those days that seemed as though nothing could go wrong. On time for work, perfect white mocha latte, new client with big ideas, boss in a good mood, and topping it all off with a completed report.

The scripted "hello!" shone in stark contrast to the gray blue of Faith's front door. She had just added the small detail right beside the polished silver door knob the day before and felt it might brighten her quiet little house just outside of Savannah, Georgia. In the fading sunlight her little yellow house seemed to glow with warmth despite the slight chill in the air from the approaching fall season. Stepping just inside the front door Faith dropped her keys and bag on the small bench, kicked off her shoes, and headed straight for the kitchen. "Hello Mr. Flip!" she sung out cheerfully over her shoulder to the bar that divided the kitchen and the living room. She set the oven to preheat, pulled a lasagna from the freezer then spun around. "How was your day, big guy?" She said as she bent down to come nose to nose with the tiny painted turtle in his little tank. Mr. Flip seemed quite indifferent to the large human that had suddenly appeared until small flakes began floating down to the flat tan rock in the corner of his tank. "Enjoy, Flip." She said lightheartedly. Faith's mood was unnaturally good today. Being a realist lended itself to a more even and logical temperament, or so she believed. She took a no nonsense approach to life: logically summing up situations and events, creating lists, assessing the tasks at hand, and enacted plans to accomplish her every mission.

At 5 feet 6 inches tall, Faith's lean frame and erect posture projected a confidence that she rarely felt. The nearly uncontrollable curly brown hair did nothing to bolster her self esteem. That evening as she looked into her bedroom mirror while removing her earrings, she hardly recognized the blue eyes looking back at her. Something felt different. However, she didn't want to question her good mood. So, she enjoyed her lasagna and two glasses of moscato while watching a couple of her favorite Doctor Who episodes and promptly went to bed at 10:45pm.

...

The flashlight beam cut through the dark room revealing dusty overturned furniture strewn across the plank floorboards. The air was stale with a bitter tinge of something recently burned. The beam of light swept into the next room landing squarely on a still warm body lying face down across a table with no chairs. Emotions surged, the flashlight beam flickered, and disembodied voices began to echo with no distinct word or pattern. The electric crackle was accompanied by a flickering presence just beyond the doorway to the left in the adjoining room. It was taunting. Suddenly indecipherable shouts, a rush of motion and adrenaline, and an all out brawl. Fighting for air, swinging, and being hit. The pandemonium ended with a sharp shrill scream and an explosion of flames.

...

Faith sat straight up as if being raised from the dead. Her heart was racing, hands shaking, and throat dry and raw. Slowly she released her death grip on the covers bunched in her lap and raised a shaky hand to push the brown twisted locks from her eyes. _What the hell was that?!_ With slow and steady movements she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the light. Her heart was still pounding as she splashed cool water on her face. "Shouldn't have eaten that last piece of lasagna so late." she whispered to the hollow room.

* * *

Disclaimer Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine. Short chapter, but they get longer. Stick with Faith, she's about to have a wild ride.

Enjoy, beautiful people! xo,Jen


	6. Ch 6 - Faith, Family, Friends

**Chapter 6 - Faith, Family, Friends**

 _Wednesday_

Morning came a few hours later and Faith faced the day with a bit less optimism than the day before. Morning coffee was still good especially with a side of breakfast casserole. Warmed and slightly awake she hit the gym for a quick workout before heading to work. The day passed smoothly until around 2pm when the afternoon drag hit with a vengeance. With drooping eyelids and her favorite Star Wars mug in hand, Faith made her way to the break room to stretch her legs and grab a fresh cup of coffee.

"What's wrong with you? You look like hell." Lynn, Faith's closest friend, said as she stepped into the tiled white kitchen.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence." She replied with a small smile.

"You know what I mean. Seriously, did you get any sleep last night?"

Faith slightly envied Lynn's well balanced life. She had three great kids, two boys and a new baby girl, and a wonderful husband. Her world was complete with the white picket fence and two car garage. Faith on the other hand was divorced (2 years and celebrating), no kids, loose family ties, and a rented house.

"I had the craziest nightmare. Woke me up a little after midnight and I couldn't go back to sleep for a while." Faith answered as she poured a fresh cup of coffee.

"Really? I thought you were past all those?"

Faith shook her head, "No, it wasn't one of those. Gosh, I haven't had a nightmare about my ex in over a year."

"Oh, good. Well, not good, but good that it wasn't about that asshole. So, are you gonna spill? What was it?"

Adding a second helping of vanilla cream to her beloved mug, Faith sighed. Knowing she would never escape unless she confessed, she recounted the dream. "...and the strangest part is that it didn't feel like it was me...like I was there but watching through someone else's eyes."

"Um...yeah, that's really strange."

"But I did eat lasagna after 8." Faith said with a shrug and slight laugh as she tipped up her mug for a sip.

Lynn laughed. "Well, take tums next time. So, are we still on for kickboxing tomorrow?"

"Haven't skipped a class all year."

::::::

That evening Faith walked through the front door, cued up the country album she had just downloaded the day before and poured herself a glass of wine. She sang along to the playlist while sautéing onions and mushrooms to top the burger she had just finished cooking. "It's the way you love me. It's a feeling like this. It's centrifugal motion. It's perpetual bliss. It's that pivotal moment. It's unthinkable. This kiss! This kiss!...da da da da…"

Grabbing the loaded bacon cheeseburger she had randomly been craving all day, she took a large bite. "Oh wow!" She said with her mouth completely full. The blissful moment was broken by the sound of her phone ringing. _Oh joy. It's my sweet baby sister._ Lies and betrayal had destroyed their relationship a few years back. She had learned the hard way to love her sister at arms length. Her niece, however, was to be loved as close as possible. Sweet baby Camron was to be spoiled with the utmost effort. _Her sweet little cheeks and heart-melting smile make the Gerber baby jealous..._ Faith often thought.

"Hey Beth. What's going on?" She answered with a faux casualness.

"Hey. Can you keep Camron on Friday night?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

Awkward silence.

"Okay... Well… I'll catch ya later."

"Okay."

Faith hung up the phone and rolled her eyes, "Pleasant as always dear sister. Geez."

 _Well, at least we talk. Better than the screwed up mess with Michael._

Faith's relationship with her brother…didn't exist. Complications from childhood that resurfaced in her mid-twenties left her with a brokenness that touched her very soul. The chasm between them would never be mended without digging up relics from the past and Faith would sooner face down a king cobra than confront those issues.

Faith finished dinner in front of the tv with Sherlock, cleaned up the dishes and then meandered through her evening routine. As she brushed her teeth she glanced up into the bathroom mirror. Her eyes seemed to be a few shades closer to green than their usual misty blue. _That's weird. Must be the color of this shirt...but I've worn this thing a million times and my eyes have never looked like this. Oh well, old age._ At 30 she loved the excuse of old age to escape the awkward dates her friends had begun to arrange. "It's time to move on." "Get back in the saddle." "If you don't date it's like that asshole won!" Their intentions were good, but definitely misplaced. Her ex had crushed her in spirit and body. The cracks in her soul had healed over time leaving scars as a vivid remembrance. But some of the chasms were too wide to heal and those were the ones shrouded in a fog at the far recesses of her mind. Her misguided friends would never know. She would hide behind a mask of politeness and decline each time hoping that someday they would give up.

She slipped under the sheet and light quilt with a yawn of relief. The disconcerting dream from the night before all but forgotten as she drifted off.

...

A misting rain hazed the long dark alley. The heel toe thud of worn work boots echoed off the dripping brick walls. A solitary light flickered and buzzed casting intermittent shadows across the wet pavement. Silently a figure appeared at the edge of the light's glow. Razor sharp claws were slowly raised as if held out for inspection while long stringy locks of grimy hair parted to reveal a vicious set of sharp pointed teeth. A deep hissing noise escaped the blood stained mouth. The footfalls abruptly halted and all forward motion down the alley ceased. Slow steady breathing. Controlled heartbeat. Flexing grip on the long blade. A deep rumbling voice full of fire and self assurance rose tauntingly, "Come and get it, douchebag." The monster's head tilted with a wild snarling grin and for a moment there was a palpable silence. Deep breathe. Surging adrenaline. Bracing for the attack. Clashing skin and claws. The blade swings...misses. Hit. Claw. Tackled. Breathless. Skull meeting pavement. Pushing against the weight. Tearing skin. Fangs pressing. Sickly sweet smell of blood. The swooshing of a blade. The figure gurgles just inches away as the head slides away leaving only the weight of the body. A hand reaches out from a blurry figure, "Hey...you alright?"

...

Faith inhaled sharply, arching her throbbing back off the surface of the bed. She blinked furiously trying to clear her vision only to find the room spinning. _It's only a dream. It's only a dream._ She repeated the chant methodically as if trying to convince herself. Finally her breathing began to even out and her vision cleared, but the pounding headache and pain in her back were relentless. She reached out for the lamp with a shaky right hand. She felt weak and vulnerable. A soft glow flooded the room and Faith instinctively brought her arm to shield her eyes from the light. _What the…_ Her arm was warm and wet. She pulled away and slid her eyes open. _What the hell!?_ Her heart was slamming into her chest once again as she saw the four lines of blood seeping down her arm. She stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. _This is insane! Did I do this to myself?_ She glanced at her other hand to check for evidence under her fingernails and found nothing. "Okay, deep breath." She coached herself. "There's a reasonable explanation. Dreams can't hurt you." A long silence ensued as Faith searched her mind for anything that might explain how she had actual claw marks across her arm. Claw marks that were identical to her dream. Four lines spread far enough apart to appear more human than animal. _Unless it was a freaking mountain lion! There's no possible way it was an animal. And I'll be damned if I'm going to believe in monsters under my bed…_ Her heart was still racing as she timidly peeked into the bedroom. Nothing. Silence. _Wait...what's the noise?_ She could hear the steady rumble of a car engine and soft indecipherable music. Faith stood frozen in the bathroom doorway clutching a towel to her torn arm. Silence filled her senses and all that remained was her own ragged breathing and pounding heart.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Enjoy, beautiful people! xo,Jen


	7. Ch 7 - In His Eyes

**Chapter 7 - In His Eyes**

 _Thursday_

Shadows weighed heavy under her eyes as Faith read the email for the third time without comprehension. She pulled the glasses from her nose and ran a hand down her face. _Maybe another cup of coffee._ She glanced at her mug. Four cups before 10am was a bit much even by Faith's coffee addiction standards. _Tomorrow's Friday. Just gotta tough it out to the weekend._

She leaned heavily over her desk propping her chin in her left hand. The bandage on her right arm was concealed by a light sweater which was completely unnecessary in the current climate. Sleep had evaded her the remainder of the previous night. So, she let her eyes slide close for just a moment.

...

"Dean, wake up. We've got to find that nest this afternoon." The tall figure hovered for a moment before stepping back into indistinction.

Hands rubbing sleepy eyes, the gravely voice answered slowly, "K, I'm up. What's for breakfast?"

The blurred figure answered...

Cold water splashing on the face. Towel drying the moisture away. The face in the mirror. Messy hair. Lips parted. Jawline with the shadow of a few days' growth. Tan. Freckles across the nose. Captivating green eyes staring. Unblinking. Unmoving.

...

Faith's elbow slid off the desk beneath the weight of her dozing form. A small smile played across her lips as she resumed consciousness. _Well, at least this one didn't scare the crap out of me._ _I should seriously consider a therapist. Hot damn...those eyes!_ She adjusted in her seat and attempted to read the email in front of her one more time. _Definitely going to skip kickboxing. I'll never survive. Coach would kick my ass and then hand it to me on a freaking silver platter!_

::::::

Faith stepped through the doorway with water dripping from her entire form and unceremoniously deposited all her belongings on the bench. "No singing tonight, Mr. Flip." She mumbled to her tiny pet as she shuffled to the bedroom in search of dry clothes. The weather had turned from blazing hot to pouring rain in a matter of minutes. As she peeled off the soaking layers, the pulsing headache she had ignored all day settled in with a jarring thud and a distinct feeling of being watched struck. She glanced around the bedroom, but nothing was out of place. Slowly she dressed, made her way to the laundry room, and dropped her saturated wardrobe in the wash. Stepping back into the kitchen she could hear the patter of rain on the window, the washing machine filling with cold water, and Mr. Flip pushing a rock around his tank...and the faint roar of an engine. The subtle beat of a bass note thumped and a faint but distinct electric guitar strummed as a soundtrack to the melody of sounds already filtering into the room. "It's got to be the neighbors." Faith said with complete conviction and a touch of anger. She marched to the front door and pulled it open. There was no car in the driveway across the street. To the left was a minivan and on the right her elderly neighbor with the white Crown Vic was just walking in the front door. Faith slammed the door, bolted it shut, and turned to the empty house, "What the hell?!"

"That's it! Somebody has slipped something in my coffee and I'm tripping!" Her voiced raised angrily as she gestured wildly.

Storming off to the bathroom, Faith cued up AC/DC Highway to Hell intent on ignoring the oncoming panic. If she could just stay angry maybe the fear would stay at bay. She pulled her hair down and let the damp wavy tresses fall around her face just past her shoulders. Bracing her hands on the counter she leaned into the mirror and stared into her own eyes looking for answers. Instead she saw deep green reflecting back at her. Her heart began to beat wildly, blood thumping in her ears, but she mentally refused to back down. Her eyes began to burn as she stared into the pools of green swimming before her. Visions filled her mind with battles, and struggles, and indescribable horrors, monsters with red eyes and razor sharp teeth, black fire burning flesh, deals with a black eyed man, death, and a young boy with a baby in his arms watching a house burn to the ground. The emotions overwhelmed her forcing her eyes to close. Involuntary tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she inhaled a shaky breath. _What is happening to me?_

After a thorough search of her small home and another dose of over the counter pain meds for the headache she climbed into bed with absolute dread. She laid wide awake hearing and seeing nothing for hours. As her vigilance waned she drifted into a light sleep only to be startled awake by the sound of fire. The crackling and crashing emanating from the living room was only slightly louder than the pounding in her head. In panic she stumbled through the open bedroom door catching herself on a wooden beam. Flames licked at the walls on the far end of the wooden structure. Her mind raced with fear and her legs buckled at the display before her. As her knees landed on the dirt and scattered hay a scream tore from her throat rattling her entire being.

::::::

Dean involuntarily dropped to his knees as the screaming sound waves crashed over him drowning out the roar of the fire. His machete fell to the ground as he clutched his ears and squeezed his eyes shut trying to push the invading force from his mind.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine. It's about to get interesting. Big things coming in the next couple of chapters.

Enjoy, beautiful people! xo,Jen


	8. Ch 8 - One Thing I Know

**Chapter 8 - One Thing I Know**

Sam latched onto Dean hauling him through the barn door and several feet away as the structure began to groan and crack. The barn collapsed just as the brothers stumbled to the ground gasping and coughing.

"What happened to you in there?" Sam asked between breaths.

Dean wiped blood away from his ears and blinked furiously to bring clarity back to his vision. The memory of her voice still rung in his ears as he attempted to sift through the onslaught of emotions.

"It was her, Sam. She...She could see everything!" He turned to Sam. "She's terrified."

::::::

After the fire and sheriff's departments had finally made it to the scene and the nearest hunter had been notified of four vamps on the run, the brothers had found the nearest motel and collapsed for a few precious hours of sleep. Dean had woken his younger brother far sooner than Sam had liked which was very odd considering Dean was typically the late riser.

Now Dean paced the small dimly lit motel room occasionally stopping to stare over Sam's shoulder at the well worn laptop. "Anything?" He questioned impatiently. He had just recounted every detail he could remember from his visions and dreams.

"It's been less than 30 seconds, Dean." Sam was tired and exasperated. He didn't want to doubt his brother but considering their lifestyle he was more apt to believe Dean was having vivid dreams or someone was attempting to break into his mind with a spell or cursed object. Dean had quickly gone on the defensive at the insinuation. "One thing I know for certain is this girl is real. She's scared, Sam. I can feel it!"

With a note of surprise in his voice Sam leaned into the laptop a fraction and said, "Well, you're at least partially right. Here's the website for Bender and Company Media Consulting and Production in Savannah Georgia. And the location fits with your description of the streets."

"How far is that?"

"About 300 miles southeast of here." Sam continued scrolling through the site until he found what he was looking for. "Check it out, they've got photos of their employees."

"Awesome." Dean braced his hands on the back of Sam's chair and watched as the faces scrolled across the screen.

"That's her." He pointed.

Sam pulled up the information. "Faith Garron. Consultant. Been with the company for…"

"Does it have a contact number for her?"

::::::

The morning sun was peaking through the living room curtains when Faith woke up in an uncomfortable heap on her living room floor. Her head throbbed and every muscle ached as she shifted to a sitting position and pulled her knees to her chest against the wall by her bedroom door. She rubbed her swollen eyes then glanced around the room. Her mind refused to coherently form a thought as she reviewed the scene she had witnessed a few short hours ago. Absentmindedly she ran a hand over the bandage on her right arm which turned her thoughts to the vision from two nights before. Her mind circled around and finally landed on the fact that she was probably late for work. With a deep shaky breath she pushed all thoughts aside and focused on getting off the floor and finding her cell phone. Her entire body quaked with the effort of standing and moving through her bedroom to the night stand. _Okay. It's about 9:30. Sooo…_ She sank to the edge of her bed as she thought through the pros and cons of calling in sick for the day. A few moments later she realized she had never made a decision and was staring blankly at the bedroom door. _Well, I guess that solves that._ She sent Lynn a quick note being sure to leave out details of her "illness" and made her way to the kitchen in search of the coffee pot and tylenol.

A few moments later she was sequestered in the corner of her couch fumbling with the remote control when the reality of the night before washed over her leaving her breathless and teary eyed. There were no logical explanations or reasonable answers. She felt completely helpless. _I don't even know who to tell!_ She began to cry in earnest realizing what she had already known. _I know I'm not imagining or dreaming any of this! It's real! But who is going to believe me!_

An hour later, Faith still sat on the couch, coffee untouched, and her thoughts still in turmoil. The doorbell rang for the second time finally shaking her free from the raging in her mind. She was suddenly aware of the sunshine dancing across the floor, the slight chill in the room, the smell of cold coffee, the relief of her headache being gone, and the sound of a calm male voice calling her name from the other side of the front door. She pulled the blanket from her lap, placed her mug on the coffee table, and stood to assess her appearance in the strategically placed decorative mirror. She momentarily adjusted her boisterous curls back into a ponytail and wiped the remaining moisture from her face.

The voice gently persisted with another knock at the door. Faith moved through the kitchen. Each step felt lighter as the weight on her heart and mind began to ease. With icy fingers she turned the bolt and reached for the polished silver knob. A small gust of wind pushed through the door as she attempted to ease it open and yanked the door wide. Faith stood absolutely still in the doorway and her lungs refused to take in oxygen as she looked up into the beautiful green eyes she knew from her dreams. Her heart thumped wildly as she involuntarily reached out to caress his cheek.

Breathlessly she whispered "You're real."

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Happy Thursday! My favorite day of the week...at least until the end of season 12. Then it'll probably swap back to Tuesdays. Alright...now we've established I've got a favorite day of the week and I'm weird. Just a bit bubbly today because I got a pay raise!

Aaaaaanyway, back to the point. My apologies for the brevity of this chapter, but I swear they get longer. I just desperately wanted to leave them all standing at the door...frozen there for a while until the next chapter appears.

I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so very much for reading! And especially thanks to Mariamo for the good advice and encouragement!

xo,Jen


	9. Ch 9 - Just Be Cool

**Chapter 9 - Just Be Cool**

Dean stood still as her soft hand gently brushed across his cheek. He had known she was real, but to see her face was beyond reassuring. A few brown curls had escaped her ponytail and were gently wisping around her bright face. The oversized faded t-shirt hung off her shoulder and the long green plaid pants covered her feet leaving red painted toenails peeking out on the off white tile.

"You're real." She whispered.

His hand involuntarily covered hers and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He could feel her shock beginning to fade as she adjusted to reality and he released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. She was real and she was safe. They stood frozen in the moment.

Sam cleared his throat breaking the spell that held them all at the door. Faith quickly removed her hand from Dean's face as her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. Dean looked away and cleared his throat.

"I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother, Dean."

"I...I'm Faith Garron."

In the brief pause, Sam and Dean watched as Faith weighed the decision of allowing them entrance to her home.

"Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you." Sam replied.

Dean was still noticeably silent as Faith lead them into the kitchen. Buying time, she went immediately to the counter where her small pet sat atop the flat rock looking up for his breakfast. She methodically opened the small jar and dropped food into the tank. Sam intended to wait patiently for Faith to turn and begin questioning them. However, Dean could no longer stand the silence. "So…"

"Please excuse me for just a few minutes." And with that she disappeared into the bedroom closing the door behind her.

"Great." Sam waved his arms. "You couldn't have just waited."

Dean gave him an incredulous look, "How is this my fault! I just said 'so'!"

Both men paused at the sound of the shower turning on.

 _Deep breath. I've just got to stay calm and think this through._ Faith was anything but calm and her empty stomach growling did nothing to help. She glanced in the bedroom mirror. _I'm a hot mess!_ She made a mad dash for the bathroom and quickly jumped in the shower. The warm water washed over her as her mind began to settle. _At least the headache is gone._

She thought through the list of questions that she needed answers to as she threw on jeans and a baby blue long sleeved t-shirt. She scrutinized her reflection in the mirror attempting to force the curly locks into submission.

She threw her hands in the air, "Whatever!"

Skipping the makeup, she brushed her teeth and headed for the bedroom door. She paused a moment with her hand on the knob solidifying her decision to approach the situation in her consultant role. She would ask questions, absorb the information, and formulate a plan. She felt a calm and clarity that was not her own. The part of her that over analyzed, worried, and stressed was momentarily silent.

She opened the bedroom door and both men rose from the couch.

"Would you like something to drink? I've got coffee, sweet tea, water. Might have some juice." she asked, suddenly remembering her manners.

"No thanks. We're good." Dean said with a small smile. "Why don't you come sit down and we'll talk."

Faith moved toward the kitchen, "Let me make a fresh cup of coffee and you can do the talking."

"Okay." Dean said as he and Sam slowly sank back to their places on the couch.

Faith put her plan into motion with the execution of the first question. _Deep breath._ "Alright, let's start with who are you."

"We hunt monsters."

Faith stepped back into the living room, coffee pot in one hand and a Wonder Woman mug in the other. "Honey, this is the south. You're gonna have to be a bit more specific."

The slight southern drawl mixed with a sassy attitude caught Dean off guard. He had been expecting something a bit more dramatic: confusion, tears, fear, frustration, anger, maybe even a melt down, but not sass. Dean's face registered his surprise and amusement causing Sam to cough to cover his snickering. Faith missed the exchange while she stirred cream into her coffee and dropped the used spoon into the sink.

Dean opted for a direct approach and began the explanation of being a hunter, "All the bad and scary things that you were told as a child didn't exist… they're real. Vampires, werewolves, shape shifters, demons...all of it." He paused to gauge her reaction as she took a seat in the cushioned rocking chair to his left. She took a deep breath and released it, sipped from her mug, and refocused her attention on the man sitting just two feet away. "We hunt them down and take out the ones who hurt humans."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Well, yeah. Angels are real, too. And they're not necessarily always the good guys. They can be real dicks."

Her consultant facade slipped momentarily as she quirked an eyebrow at the last piece of information. Faith had grown up in church always hearing the stories of angels as God's soldiers, messengers, and emissaries. She logged away the information and pushed the additional questions to the back of her mind right beside the pile of emotions that she would probably release in a torrential freak out once this conversation was over.

"What my brother is trying to say, " Sam gracefully interjected, "is that there are a lot of things out there that regular people, like you, don't know about because of people like us."

"Okay." She nodded. "How did you find me?"

"I saw your office."

"Wait, what? Like in a dream?"

"Apparently, you've been seeing my life and I've been seeing yours."

"Where else have you seen? What...What else have you seen?" The facade was gone and the emotions drove to the surface faster than she could control.

"Your office, car, house, kitchen, bedroom." His voice trailed off realizing to late that so much honesty may not be the best choice for this moment.

"So basically every time I felt like I was being watched I was actually being wa…" her voice faded away. Her mind raced through every uneasy moment she had felt over the last few days and quickly landed on the day she came home in the rain and stripped in what she thought was the privacy of her room. Her head snapped up to look in Dean's eyes just as a bright shade of red rose from her cheeks and spread to her neck and ears. Dean was doing his best not to grin, but she looked so cute when she was embarrassed.

Faith became suddenly serious. "And what about this?" She placed the mug on the coffee table and pulled up the sleeve on her right arm to reveal the healing gash.

Dean's face fell and Sam leaned forward to look. Dean pulled up his right sleeve to reveal an exact match. Before they could even formulate a reply, Faith's controlled demeanor slipped and the fear and panic she'd been holding at bay took over. Her heart raced and her entire form began to tremble as she rose from the rocking chair and paced to the window. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she put her quaking hands through the tangled mess of curls, "What the hell! I've just let two complete strangers into my home and tell me that the boogeyman is real along with the monster under the bed and every other creepy shitty thing I can think of and I'm just nodding like it's another day!" She was spiraling out "And matching scars and...oh my god! Who the hell are you! What does all this shit have to do with me! I'm nobody! I mind my own damn business and…"

Dean took hold of of her shaking arms gently rubbing up and down to soothe the torrent of emotions. He leaned down to look her in the eyes, "Hey. It's gonna be ok. We'll figure this out and get you back normal." He took her in his arms and she accepted his embrace without question. "It's gonna be alright." He held her whispering soothing words until she regained control and slowly pulled away. With a small grateful smile she wiped the tears away, "Sorry."

"No need to apologize." Dean said with sincerity.

"Alright. So, how do we figure this out?"

Sam stood and started walking towards the door, "Well, let's figure out what you two have in common and go from there. I'll be right back."

The room fell silent and Dean looked across to where Faith was adjusting her hair in the mirror. She may have felt ordinary and plain but Dean saw her as beautiful inside and out. His protective nature was in overdrive and his heart physically felt like it was squeezing in his chest. _Just play it cool. Don't want to freak her out. It's probably just part of whatever this thing is..._

Before his thoughts could go any farther Faith turned on her heels as if struck by a revelation. She looked Dean in the face and said, "Dude! Your life sucks!"

* * *

Disclaimer Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

I'll be out of town on business next week so I thought I'd post a day early and then add another chapter on Friday before I leave. These were some of my favorites to write. So, I really hope you enjoy!

xo,Jen


	10. Ch 10 - Only One Way

**Chapter 10 - Only One Way**

"I already told you at least a dozen times!"

"Just tell it again."

Dean sprawled out across the sofa completely annoyed at having to recount the events of the past week to Sam again. Faith had abandoned them in the living room long ago in search of some alone time with her thoughts. It was late afternoon and Sam had made Faith and Dean pour out every single detail from the past week no matter how insignificant a thought or action seemed.

"I don't know what else you think you're gonna find, Sammy. Tuesday in Lynn Alabama dealing with the ghost, felt like I was being watched…"

"And nothing before that?"

"NO!" Dean got up from the couch and stalked off down the short hallway to the guest bathroom.

Sam leaned back in his chair and sighed.

Faith heard the final exchange between the brothers from in front of the kitchen stove while she stirred pasta into a pot of boiling water. She was adjusting to the madness that now encompassed her formerly peaceful home, but at the moment she needed something she knew well to give her the smallest comfort and reassurance.

 _Music! Must have music._

Grabbing headphones from her purse, she pulled up the favorites playlist on her phone and let the random mashup of country, pop, and classic rock pull her away from reality. She let her thoughts wander away from the situation and focus on the two men currently occupying her house. Her mind's eye formed a clear image of Dean standing by the window in her living room with his green eyes locked on her.

 _Damn! He is fine. Definitely out of my league. And I've pretty much looked like an idiot all day! Can't even keep it together long enough to form a coherent sentence._

She rehearsed her conversations from the day and chastised herself for every misspoken word. _You know what!? Whatever! Doesn't matter anyway. I'm not interested in anything but fixing this mess and getting my boring little life back to normal._

Forcefully she pushed all thoughts aside and focused on the music. She hummed along and swayed to the beat while adding an extra handful of cheese to the creamy white sauce bubbling in the pan.

 _Damn, something smells good._

Faith froze, eyes wide.

 _It'll be good to have a home cooked meal._

Faith pulled the headphones from her ears and looked around. She was completely alone in the middle of the kitchen with only the sounds of a late lunch/early supper cooking on the stove. She stood stock still, closed her eyes, and listened.

 _I wonder if she can bake a pie!?_

Her eyes flew wide open realizing with a shock that she could hear Dean. She made a mad dash around the bar and into the living room only to find Sam sitting alone on the couch watching her with confusion and a touch of concern. Dean walked into the room from the shadow of the hallway and looked up to meet Faith's piercing gaze.

"What is it?" Dean's gravelly voice connected with the voice she had just heard.

"I heard you." She stated as calmly as she possibly could.

"What? In the bathroom? But I...the...the door was closed!" He was a bit alarmed.

"No, not like that. I heard you talking."

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did. You said dinner smelled good and you haven't had a home cooked meal in a while and you wondered if I could bake a pie."

"I never opened my mouth."

 _Oh shit!_

Dean's eyes grew wide as he looked directly at her. "I heard that."

The sound of Faith's phone ringing in the next room interrupted the discovery of their newest complication. Annoyed, scared, frustrated, angry...she turned her back and headed for the kitchen.

::::::

"Sam, we have got to figure this out. Fast. It's getting more intense. If she gets a good look up inside this gord..." he pointed towards his forehead "and sees all the crap we've been through...hell, it might break her! I mean, it's broken us on more than one occasion."

Sam sighed. "Well, we've been over every detail from the past week or so and ruled out demons and cupids. The only other thing I can come up with is a cursed object."

"Yeah, but the last time we were around anything like that was a couple months ago."

"At least that's the last time we _know_ we were around anything like that." Sam paused and thought through their hunts over the past few weeks.

Dean looked thoughtfully towards the kitchen.

 _Good grief! Just get over yourself already. I'd rather be spending time with Camron, but it's not the end of the world for you to stay home one freaking weekend!_

Faith walked back around to the living room straight into Dean's gaze. "What now?"

"You really don't like your sister, do you? Or your brother!"

Her face grew very serious and she stretched out a hand as if to block the connection between them, "Don't even go there. I was supposed to babysit my neice tonight, but..."

"You told her you have a stomach virus. Good one."

"Seriously?!"

"Seattle." Sam interjected.

"What about Seattle?" Faith and Dean turned on Sam and spouted in unison.

"Umm...ooookaaay. We worked a haunting at the Seattle Art Museum almost three weeks ago. There could have been cursed objects …"

Faith felt a small rush of enthusiasm, "I was just there three weeks ago on a business trip."

::::::

Faith found it flattering and annoying to have her thoughts interrupted with food related comments from Dean's mind all throughout dinner. Faith and Sam discussed at length all the different exhibits, art pieces and artifacts that were housed at the museum finally landing on the touring Egyptian exhibit that had been on display at the time of their visit. Faith recounted her private tour with vivid detail. "I'm not really that big into art. So, I'd say the jewelry collection was probably the most interesting. Archeologists found the collection along with mummified remains. I was actually able to examine a few of the pieces as they were putting them out."

"Isn't that the exhibit that you broke during the fight?" Sam questioned as Dean shoveled another forkful of chicken and broccoli alfredo into his mouth.

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

An image of Dean flying across the room crashing into a glass case played through Faith's mind. _Oh wow._

Dean glanced across the table. Faith decided to experiment. She recalled images of the jewelry as she had examined them looking across the table at Dean to see if he registered her memories. _I see them._

::::::

After another hour of research, Sam decided that the information he needed was most likely stashed away in the archives of the bunker. He had found a list of the rings and necklaces contained in the exhibit with some basic descriptions, but had been unable to locate any other information online that was specific to each piece since the collection had only been recently discovered. Faith insisted on staying home because she felt she couldn't leave her job, friend, or family on such short notice and with no explanation. She stood in the driveway as the Impala roared to life and backed out into the road.

Dean was hesitant to leave her knowing that at any moment the chaos he saw on a daily basis could filter into her world. He shifted into drive and pushed on the gas pedal sending the Impala towards the stop sign at the end of the street. The farther away Dean moved from Faith, the more his head began to pound. He reached the end of the road and could barely hear or see because of the throbbing headache. He rubbed a shaking hand across his face just as a loud high pitched hum began ringing in his ears.

"Dean. Dean! You ok?" Sam's face was etched with concern.

"WHAT? I...I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING! IT'S RINGING." Dean was becoming incoherent and confused causing him to release the steering wheel and slide his foot off the brake.

Sam slid across the black leather seat, pressed down on the brake pedal and threw the car in park. Quickly he glanced back to where they had left Faith standing in the driveway and saw her lying on the pavement with both hands pressed to her face. He lifted a semi conscious Dean across him and slid into the driver's seat making quick work of turning the Impala back to the small yellow house.

"You alright?" Sam crouched beside Faith and placed a hand on her elbow helping her gain balance as she sat up and wiped the flecks of dirt away from her shirt.

"Not exactly." She said as she tried to catch her breath.

"I think you two are tied together more than we realized." Sam was already analyzing the event and gathering information that would hopefully find the cursed piece that held Faith and Dean together. Sam helped Faith to her feet and guided her to the Impala where she braced herself with one hand while wiping the involuntary tears from her eyes.

Dean kept one hand on the sleek black metal as he exited the passenger door and made his way to the front of the car on shaky knees. His head still throbbed, but the ringing was beginning to fade. He met Faith between the headlights and immediately looked in her face to see if she had suffered the same reaction from their distance. She raised her scraped left hand close to her face so she could assess the damage her fall to the pavement had caused.

"You ok?"

"Oh...um...yeah, it's...it's nothing." Dean gently took her hand in his attempting to see the extent of her injury, but instead became transfixed in her gaze as an unseen energy pulsed between them. He was suddenly aware of her soft skin, the sheen across her dusty blue eyes, the strands of her brown curly hair dancing in the breeze, and his overwhelming desire to pull her close and whisper "I need you." She was beautiful and intelligent, he had seen those aspects on the surface the moment they met, but throughout the day he had also felt and seen she was sincere, feisty, caring, funny and so much more. She was deeper than the mask of confidence she portrayed and she harbored darker corners and broken places in her mind. Dean couldn't deny the overwhelming attraction, but knew that the curse that tied them was responsible for the instant need and desire. The force that pulled him to here was only matched by his will power to pull away. He refused to get attached to her or anyone else. _Everyone and everything I touch dies._

::::::

Faith's heart began to race as his fingers slipped gently around her wrist. Then she was frozen in the moment staring up into his green eyes that seemed to surge with energy. She could hear his pounding heart and hesitantly raised her free hand to lightly rest it on his muscled chest. She felt herself inch closer as the pull to be near him teetered on the verge of suffocation. He was devastatingly handsome, quick witted, and extremely passionate, but his good humor could not disguise the brokenness she felt and saw in his mind and soul. Faith couldn't push away the attraction she felt for this man, but knew that their emotions and feelings were only tied together through some artifact creating the desire. Acknowledging the attraction caused the clouded corners of her mind to spring to life with vivid memories of emotional, mental, and physical abuse. She stamped it out quickly, but the release of visions gave her the reminders she needed. _Don't be stupid, don't get close, and absolutely do not trust him._

Sam called their names again, but the moment was only broken when he placed a hand on each of their arms causing them to pull apart. The intensity had only lasted a few seconds, but Faith and Dean had been wrapped in one another's minds for what felt like hours.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Extra chapter that I promised! This last part was one of my favorite moments to write. I hope you enjoy!

Feed the writer...please r&r! xo,Jen


	11. Ch 11 - Baggage

**Chapter 11 - Baggage**

Sam slept in the guest bedroom just down the hall from the living room while Dean took up residence on the couch. Dean attempted to push aside the torrent of thoughts and feelings he had seen from Faith during their brief contact while simultaneously ignoring his own desires. _This is gonna be a long night._ He rolled to his side for the third time and started tearing down the Impala engine in his mind and rebuilding it piece by piece. _Better than counting sheep._

Faith stayed up a little longer than her guests to send emails to her boss, her coworker and friend, Lynn, and her sister, Beth, letting them all know she would be out and unavailable for the next week. She wasn't thrilled with having to lie or use her vacation time, but it was necessary. Despite her valiant effort to ignore the problems at hand and rest, sleep evaded her for the majority of the night. _It's definitely going to be a three cup of coffee kind of morning._ For the sixth time she went through her mental checklist of tasks she would need to accomplish in the morning before leaving town.

::::::

Early the next morning, her suitcase packed and travel mug in hand Faith followed after Sam and Dean to the Impala. Dean was about to argue with the size of her suitcase when he saw a memory of the last time she had ridden in the backseat of a vehicle.

"Faith gets shotgun."

Sam had just opened the passenger side door, "What?"

"She gets carsick in the backseat and there's no way I'm letting her throw up in baby."

::::::

Several pit stops, back roads, classic rock songs and uncomfortable moments later Faith followed Dean through a heavy steel door and down a staircase into the bunker. It was very late and she was exhausted from guarding her every thought and could tell the constant invasion was beginning to wear on Dean as well.

"I'm going to get a beer." Dean trotted off down the hall.

Sam deposited his laptop and a stack of books on the long polished table in the middle of the library. "Make yourself at home. There's a guest bedroom just down the hall past the kitchen. Third door on the left." He went in search of the Egyptian archives leaving her to stare in awe at the collection of books and artifacts. On the long drive over Sam had answered her questions about the bunker, it's history, and their connection with the Men of Letters. Dean had interjected occasionally, but for the most part his mind played out the stories in bits and pieces giving her a vivid show of how difficult his life had been thus far.

She stepped into the hall just as Dean exited the kitchen with a cold beer in each hand. Dean opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. Instead he nodded towards the other end of the hall. Faith smiled and followed him into a sparsely decorated room with a 1940's style bed and desk. She put her bags on the bed and turned just as Dean reached to hand her the extra beer.

She sighed, "Thanks."

 _This place is intimidating. This whole thing is intimidating!_

Dean heard her thoughts before she could cut them off. So, he sat on the edge of the desk, took a sip of his beer and attempted to relax. "Bathroom's just down the hall. My room's next door if you need anything."

"Thanks." She took a sip of the brew and sat on the edge of the bed facing Dean.

Dean intentionally kept his mind clear giving her a moment to collect her noisy thoughts. "You know…" she said with a small laugh, "I never realized how disorganized my thoughts were until now."

Dean smiled, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Your brain is kinda noisy." To his surprise, Faith genuinely laughed.

"Kinda?"

"Okay, it's really noisy. How do you keep everything straight?"

"I just...do, I guess. Trying to get to sleep is the worst, though. My brain just won't shut off. The craziest part is I'll come up with ways to reorganize my schedule, fix problems at work, all kinds of stuff...and then in the morning I won't remember any of it!"

The tension between them began to fade with the light conversational banter.

Dean wasn't quite ready to part company, "Hey, you want a tour?"

And neither was she, "Sure."

Dean opened each door with a dramatic explanation of the rooms contents followed by a story of something that had happened in or around the room. Faith could feel each emotion as it rolled off of him. Some funny, some sad, some happy, but the common theme was his enduring relationship with his younger brother. Their bond was amazing and something she greatly envied. _Trust, patience, strength, foundation, dependability..._ she couldn't hear these exact words, but she knew these were the things Dean felt about his brother. She let herself be absorbed in each story as Dean's thoughts gave a slideshow of each memory he told.

"And this…this is my favorite." Dean flipped the switches for every light in the garage.

Faith couldn't help but mirror the smile on Dean's face because she could feel the pride he took in the display before them. She saw a memory of Dean washing the Impala in a pair of very short cut off jeans and burst out laughing.

"What the hell were you wearing?"

Dean tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably, "That's a long story! I...ugh. It was a bet and I lost."

Faith laughed even harder at the continuing images that Dean couldn't seem to keep from her. "Oh my god! That is freaking hilarious!"

Dean cleared his throat and headed for the door with mock insult, "Fine. If you're not gonna respect this sacred place then we're leaving." Dean let one more image of Sam spraying him with the water hose play in his mind and walked through the door back towards the main bunker. The door closed behind him momentarily and he paused to listen for her thoughts that were just below the sound of her laughter. She was calm and relaxed for the first time since they had met.

 _How is it possible for a guy to look that damn hot in something so ridiculous!_

Dean smiled and headed for the living room area where the couch and tv had been set up near the library.

::::::

It was past 3am when Sam finally pushed away from the long table in the library. "I think that's all we're going to find tonight. We can pick back up in the morning."

Dean had just drifted off to sleep on the couch with a book in his lap and an empty beer bottle in his hand on the small table beside him. Faith finished the paragraph she was reading and pulled the glasses from her nose with a yawn and a stretch. She leaned back in the chair with a sigh. "Okay, so let me just recap for my own peace of mind." Faith's logic and organization demanded. "We've figured out it's one of the two scarab rings from the Egyptian collection on loan from the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. The exhibit is going to be in Cleveland Ohio for the next three months."

"It's most likely the one with amethyst on one side of the swivel and a hieroglyph representing Hathor, the Egyptian goddess of love, on the other. We really need a translation for the markings around the band to be sure."

"Basically, Dean and I are somehow bound together because we both touched the ring and now we need to figure out what created the connection and how to undo it." She paused in thought as Sam stood and stretched, "And you don't think it will just wear off?"

"It doesn't really seem like it. In fact, from what both of you are saying it's actually getting stronger."

Faith looked over at Dean and sighed, "Yeah, cause right now I can tell you he's dreaming about his car...again."

Sam laughed, "It's kind of his thing."

Faith smiled, but grew serious again quickly, "We really need an archeologist or a specialist or translator or something."

"Don't worry. We'll figure it out. We're already better off than we were this time yesterday."

Faith sighed, "True." She followed Sam to where Dean was sprawled on the couch and pulled the empty bottle from his hand and lifted the book from his lap careful to save his place. Sam woke him and the three headed to their respective bedrooms for some much needed sleep.

...

Faith was running. Endlessly running. The look of absolute terror in her blue eyes as the world around her sped by. A man's voice called her name. Screamed her name, "FAITH! Where are you, you stupid bitch?!...You screwed everything up AGAIN!...You ruin everything you touch!" She continued to run as the voice drew closer and closer. Suddenly she was at the end of a hall. A dead end. There was no where else to run. Faith's chest heaved with every breath as she struggled to pull in air. Panic was setting in as she spun about looking for an exit or a hiding place. _Nowhere to go. Nowhere to run._ A short stocky shadowed figure appeared at the end of the hall anger radiating from every muscle as it stepped purposefully slow towards her. She flattened herself against the wall and began to beg, "I swear I didn't mean to! I was just trying to help! Please...please...don't!" He was inches away when a hand raised in the air above her and she cowered bracing for an impact.

...

Dean sat straight up in bed. "Faith." Throwing the covers off he slid off the bed and grabbed the gray flannel pants hanging on the chair by the desk. He slipped into them just as he reached her bedroom door. Without a thought he tapped lightly and walked right in. Faith was fighting with the unseen presence that held her in the dream and had kicked off the covers leaving her with just an oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts protecting her from the chill of the room.

"Faith...wake up." Dean sat on the edge of her bed and gently rubbed her arms. Tears were streaming down her face when her eyes flew open with blind panic and she fought against his grasp. "It's ok! It's just me. It's Dean. It's ok."

Her eyes cleared and registered recognition, "Dean." She sat up and he wrapped strong arms around her sobbing form. She pressed her face into his bare chest and let the tears flow unchecked while Dean ran a soothing hand across her neck and whispered comforts into her tousled hair.

As her tears subsided she slowly pulled away and moved to wipe the moisture from her face. Dean was reluctant to release her so he kept a protective hand on her arm as she attempted to compose herself. He could feel the tremor in her movements and in her mind. She was truly shaken and afraid as she took a deep breath to calm her thundering heart. _It was just a dream. It was just a dream. He's not here. He can't hurt me. It was just a dream._ Dean stayed quiet as he listened to her repeat the well rehearsed lines over and over before finally looking up to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry." She whispered hoarsely.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. Do you want to talk about it?" He gently asked.

"Not at the moment." She took another deep shaky breath and shook her head. "I...um...I haven't had one of those in quite a while."

Dean reached out to push a stray curl from her face and was startled when she flinched. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…"

A few tears fell anew, "No, it's okay...I'm really sorry...I just...uh…"

"I'll go and let you get some rest." He started to stand and move towards the door when she reached out and placed ice cold fingers on his arm.

"Please don't go...just yet." In the dim light spilling through the open door her need was evident in her eyes, in her voice, and in her thoughts. Slowly he sat back down on the edge of the bed and reached out with his hand open, palm up to ease her heart and show he meant no harm. Their thoughts began to mix and she understood. Giving him a measure of trust, she placed her hand in his and pulled him close.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

This chapter touched my heart. So, I just want to say...if this is something you're going through, it's not okay for someone to treat you this way! Don't be afraid to tell a family member or friend that you're in trouble and need help. There is always a place you can go and someone who will help you! You are a priceless gem and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

You never know what people are going through. So, let's love those around us! Support your local shelter and help those in need!

Thanks for reading, ya'll!

xo,Jen


	12. Ch 12 - Personal Space

**Chapter 12 - Personal Space**

Dean went back to his own bed half an hour later leaving Faith to have a semblance of alone time with her thoughts. After the waves of fear and sadness subsided embarrassment settled in and Dean knew it was his time to step away.

He drifted in and out of sleep until the next morning when he woke to country music playing in his head.

 _Not this again!_

Faith's response was quick.

 _Fine, what's your preference? Wait, let me guess. How about Guns N' Roses, Sweet Child O' Mine?_

 _That'll work._

Dean smiled and stretched under the covers. Faith was in the kitchen making pancakes, but the distance between their minds was not so far.

Sam had run to the store early that morning and was already sitting at the library table researching on his laptop.

::::::

Faith was angry and Dean knew it before he even walked into the kitchen, but she wasn't angry with him. She was angry with herself. The circle of thoughts that she kept pushing away were slipping through the ever fading barrier between them.

 _Why did that have to happen during all of this? I mean, I guess it's not like I can control it, but my reaction! Seriously! I must have looked like a helpless kid last night. He probably thought...you know what, enough. Stop doing this to yourself. Freak out when this mess is over. Pity party later, pancakes now._

Faith was humming along to Hotel California when Dean reached the coffee pot. "Morning." His gravelly morning voice echoed through the industrial sized kitchen.

"Morning." Faith echoed quietly, intentionally singing the words to the song in her mind to prevent her thoughts from rehearsing the scene from last night and the continual scolding she kept circling back to.

"Is that pancakes?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"Sure is. First ones are ready now. Grab a plate." She put several on his plate with a pile of sausage and avoided eye contact at all costs. "Can you call Sam in here?"

"Sure."

Sam walked through the door before Dean could put his plate down, "Well, I've got good news and bad news."

"Let's hear it." Dean said placing his plate on the kitchen table.

"Good news is I just got off the phone with Professor Markham at the Cleveland Art Institute who knows a lot about Egyptian artifacts and can probably tell us what the writing says…"

Faith was thrilled, but the realist in her understood that the bad news was about to offset this incredibly good news.

"And the bad news?" Faith and Dean questioned in unison.

"It seems there was a break in at the museum in Seattle that damaged several artifacts including the ring." Sam and Dean both looked rightfully ashamed. "And those artifacts are not going to be on display at the Cleveland Museum of Art when the exhibit opens in the morning."

Faith stepped in, "And do we know where they are housing the damaged items?"

"At the moment, no. However, Professor Markham is going to make some calls to his contacts at the museum in London and see if he can get the pieces transferred to the university. He said if the damage isn't to bad then he might be able to repair some of it."

"Then it's not all bad news. We're just in another holding pattern until we hear back from the professor."

"He said he would call as soon as he heard anything."

"Sounds good. But how did you get in touch with a professor on a Sunday? And even more importantly, how the hell did you get him to tell you all that information?"

Dean piped up, "Well, when people think you're the FBI they'll tell you pretty much anything."

::::::

It was early afternoon and Sam was pacing the floor with a few loose pages in hand from the handwritten journal Faith was reading. Dean had just stepped to the kitchen for a refresh on beers. Faith could hear him listing snack choices in his mind as he rummaging through the cabinets.

Faith sat up in her chair and pushed Dean's snack list to the side so she could re-read the last paragraph again. Dean came through the kitchen door and spoke just as she looked up to call Sam's attention, "What did you find?"

She sighed in exasperation. _Why you gotta steal my thunder?_

"Seriously, you're gonna do that right now? What's the news?"

"No need to snap, jerk!"

The endless stream of consciousness between them was beginning to wear thin.

Sam looked on with a touch of amusement in his eyes, "So, what've you got?"

 _You look hot when you get mad._

Faith took a deep breath and firmly pushed Dean's thoughts aside, refusing to answer because she felt the same about him. "I think I found our problem and solution right here. Archeologist and Men of Letters enthusiast, Obadiah Lane, ran into a similar situation over 75 years ago when he was working a dig in Egypt. Long story short a scarab unity ring linked two members on his team because they both examined it and turned the swivel piece that contained the stone and hieroglyph twice in opposite directions. The pair became so unified that they couldn't be separated even by a few steps before they found a way to break the spell. They discovered the maker of the rings would have the gods enchant them by performing certain rituals. Each ritual can be undone by following the instructions on the band. But there's a catch…"

"Of course there's a catch. There's always a catch." Dean interrupted.

"The undoing ritual requires a sacrifice or a punishment."

"Does the journal specify what that is?" Sam questioned.

"No, but it does say that the...it's right here…'the god or goddess exacts retribution for the denying of his or her gift.'"

Dean was watching her carefully. There was more to the story that had her concerned, "And how long did it take Obadiah and his crew to figure all this out?"

She knew what he was driving at, "About a month."

"And if they hadn't…"

Dean heard her thoughts before she opened her mouth. _It becomes permanent. And the more they made physical contact the faster the process moves._

"Great…" _And I'm having trouble not ripping your clothes off now!_ Dean's head snapped up to meet Faith's wide eyes. "You heard that, didn't you?"

Faith turned three shades of red and looked away, but not before a stray thought escaped her. _The feeling's mutual._ She was mentally kicking herself the moment it crossed her mind, but it was too late. The damage was done. Dean's eyebrows shot up and a smile crept across his features.

"Hello? Third person in the room." Sam said exasperatedly. The half conversations were beginning to be annoying since they had been occurring more and more frequently.

Dean spoke for them, "We've got about a week to fix this or we'll be Ricky and Lucy forever."

Faith shuffled the pages in front of her to distract her thoughts and inadvertently gave herself a paper cut. "Ow." She mumbled as she jerked her finger away from the offending page. A single drop of blood formed on Dean's finger in the exact location. They both grew serious meeting one another's gaze and thoughts. _It's getting worse._

::::::

Twenty minutes later they were roaring down the highway towards Cleveland with a few tattered journal pages, duffle bags and Faith's small _mountain of luggage that could clothe an entire African village,_ so Dean thought.

 _It's one suitcase and you told me to pack for a week._ Faith defended over the sounds of AC/DC. She was sitting front and center between Sam and Dean attempting not to brush against Dean's arm which was nearly impossible. Besides the fact that their thoughts and memories would spark between them like electricity, she could feel her attachment growing and it terrified her which in turn pulled up memories from her broken past. "Can we stop at the next gas station?"

"Sure." Dean was attempting to ignore the pulse between them, but the combination of his own thoughts mixed with hers was slowly overpowering him. Memories of each person he'd lost seeped through his mind like a leak in the damn. He wanted a moment away as much as she did and yet neither one wanted to be apart.

 _This is the strangest mix of emotions._

 _Yes it is._ Dean agreed with a nod.

::::::

Faith stepped into the gas station just as a sharp pain pierced her head. She stumbled, reached out to steady herself on the nearest rack, and felt another sharp pain in her right knee. _Dean._ Sam was at her side before she could hit the floor pulling her back through the glass doors to the Impala where Dean was on his right knee leaning between the gas pump and his baby. Sam helped her lean against the side of the vehicle as Dean came to stand beside her. She was rubbing her knee mirroring the concerned look in his eyes, _Your knee okay?_

 _Yeah, I'm good. You?_

 _I'm good._

::::::

"I was right." The low voice slid from a dark figure that sat in a lone gray sedan hidden in the shadows beside the gas station. "There's something going on with the older Winchester and that girl. They can't be apart."

"I think we've found the opening we've been looking for." The syrupy female voice smoothly replied from the other end of the phone.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Hope you are enjoying the story. Things are certainly about to get interesting!

Please review if you get a chance. I'd love to hear from you.

Thanks so much for reading!

xo,Jen


	13. Ch 13 - Unlucky

**Chapter 13 - Unlucky**

Faith had taken something for motion sickness and sat in the backseat resting her head on the front seat so she could feel the AC and have a good view of the road. Sam had protested but Faith insisted she ride in the back more for her own presence of mind. She was seeing more and more of Dean's darker side and it was enough to make her wary of him. Dean had felt her pulling away and decided not to say anything until later that evening after they had found a place to stay that wasn't a _less than acceptable motel,_ according to Faith.

 _It's cheap._

 _I'll spring for a nicer place...maybe somewhere that doesn't look like the main residents are bedbugs._

Dean smiled and turned back down the road to the Days Inn they had passed a mile back.

Sam laughed, "I'm guessing that didn't meet your approval."

"I told him I'd pay for a better room."

"No arguments here."

::::::

"They have a pool!" Dean said with enthusiasm.

It was well past midnight and Faith was already curled up in the bed closest to the window with a couple of pages from Obadiah's journal attempting to find more information on breaking the spell. The room was quiet and only the sounds of the shower running could be heard. Dean and Faith, however, were hearing a myriad of sounds and thoughts, echoes and memories. The silence combined with the noise was deafening.

"Faith." Dean's voice was deeply serious as he stood across the room and cleared his mind to get her attention. She was so focused on ignoring everything but the pages that her head was beginning to throb with the effort. _Faith._

 _No. I can't. If I stop now I'll lose it._

 _You'll lose control? Sweetheart, you can't control everything. I learned that a long time ago._

Faith let the pages slide from her fingers and fall to her lap. She still couldn't meet his gaze for fear of seeing hell fire, demonic anger, or another death in his eyes. _I know. I know what you've learned._

Dean's gaze never faltered despite the rush of emotions this revelation gave him. He had been dreading this moment. The moment she saw past the facade of humor and attitude and saw him for who he truly thought himself to be. The whole room stood in anticipation as Faith slipped from beneath the covers in her gray t-shirt and tiny blue shorts and with bare feet silently stepped across the carpeted floor to come face to face with a man who felt he was a monster. Her blue eyes slowly slid up to meet the truth she saw in those deep green pools that held so much hurt, pain, regret, fear, and loss. Two hands came to rest on the stubble on his cheeks forcing him to completely connect his thoughts with hers. And to his complete amazement he didn't see fear or sorrow or pity as he expected. He saw pride and thankfulness. _You have saved the entire world. You're the real hero._

Faith's mind was overwhelmed with Dean's history and emotions. She was slowly losing her grip on her ever mounting feelings and knew that if he opened the door to his mind she would fall through and lose control of her own secrets that she so desperately wanted to keep hidden. But the brokenness that flooded her being from his life of insurmountable trials, difficult choices, endless fighting, and ultimate loss demanded she answer. He needed to know that he wasn't the villain of the story, but the hero. As she placed her hands on either side of his face and met his gaze the flood gate of her own brokenness swept through his consciousness...crushing words, shattered confidence, bruises and scars, violence, and the stolen innocence of childhood. His eyes grew wide and a single tear slipped down his cheek and touched her finger. _Your worth is far more than any man could ever afford._

Her eyes slid closed fighting the tears as her own emotions overpowered her and her hands slid from his face.

Sam emerged from the bathroom at that moment causing Dean and Faith to step apart. Sam paused as he watched them separate and walk to opposite sides of the room. Faith returned to her place on the bed and Dean walked past Sam and into the bathroom closing the door behind him.

"Everything ok?" Sam questioned Faith gently.

"Yeah, everything's good." Faith couldn't hear Sam's thoughts, but she knew what he meant...be careful.

::::::

Faith could hear Sam snoring lightly and see Dean's dreams of his beautiful Impala rolling down a back road under a starry night sky. Sleep evaded her as the crashing waves of her own emotions refused to stay at bay. After another hour of laying awake she gave up and ventured outside the door of their second floor room and leaned against the cold metal railing. Both Sam and Dean had protested at the thought of being on the second floor, but with all the first floor rooms taken and the lateness of the hour they gave in and took the room closest to the stairs. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, closed her eyes, and gulped in a breath of cool night air. _Deep breath. Just need to set everything aside and rela…_ before she could finish her thought a strong arm wrapped around her waist effectively pinning her arms to her side while a cold clammy hand covered her mouth. She fought against the vice grip and attempted to call out, but her strength was useless. _DEAN! HELP!_

Dean woke with an unusual instant clarity grasping the pearl handle of his gun from beneath his pillow. Bare chested he rushed into the cold night air just in time to see Faith being dragged down the stairs by her assailant. He took one step in her direction and was hit from behind turning the whole scene before him to black. Faith's body went limp in that exact moment. Their last thoughts were for the safety of the other.

::::::

Cold wet stone pressed against his naked back and arms and his flannel pants soaked in the water from the concrete floor. The world was in a fog and his head was splitting from back to front. His neck and arm muscles flexed in response at his attempt to bring his head to its rightful position and his eyes blinked wildly to see through the haze. His eyes landed on a face not a few inches from his own and he shook his head in response.

"He's awake." The distorted features of a burly middle aged man with drooping gray hair slipped away revealing a semi conscious Faith tied to a chair directly in front of him. He immediately pulled against his restraints but to no avail. His wrists were clamped in shackles and chains. Anger and adrenaline coursed through his veins causing Faith to sit up a bit straighter. Her gray shirt was torn at the neck revealing a dark bruise on her left shoulder. His mind reached out to touch hers bringing a small calm to her racing heart and thoughts.

 _Are you hurt?_

 _Nothing broken. Just sore. What's going on? Who are these people?_

He knew her well and stepped in to play the coaching role that she normally filled herself. _Deep breath. Focus on me, sweetheart. Just hang in there. I'll get us out of this._

Only a moment had passed, but their audience had not missed the eye locking exchange. A tall thin woman with dark hair and black eyes stepped from the shadows her voice oozing from her body with a sickly sweet tone, "Hello Dean." She was beautiful and enchanting but the black puddles that took the place of her eyes soiled her every feature.

"Demons. I shoulda guessed." Dean spit out each word with disgust. "What do you want? Does your precious king know you're here? Cause last time I checked there was a 'no go' order in place for the Winchesters."

"What the king doesn't know… blah blah blah. Oh Dean, I'm hurt. You don't remember me?" She slid a smooth hand down his rigid chest and placed two fingers under his chin forcing him to meet her gaze. "Look closer." She leaned down and inched her face within a breath of his lips. Dean looked her in the eyes with defiance as he felt Faith's anger blossom and overtake her fear. He could hear her tugging against the ropes that restrained her and cursing beneath the tape covering her mouth.

The demon pulled away standing perfectly erect. "Looks like your girlfriend is the jealous type." She turned on black stilettos and stepped away. Turning back to face her prisoners with her two henchmen close at hand she said lifted her chin a notch, "I'm Guy. What do you think of the new meat suite?"

Dean refused to let the recognition register on his face and instead opted for a mocking quizzical expression, "Excuse me, who?"

Faith watched the story play out in Dean's mind of Sam marrying a starry-eyed enthusiastic blonde named Becky and a demon attempting to sell her a vial of purple liquid with promises of happiness for 25 years in exchange for her soul. The story ended with Sam and Dean turning the demon over to a short well dressed man in a black trench coat and both of them disappearing.

"Now, that's just not nice, Dean. After you turned me over to Crowley, I spent the next few centuries of my existence being tortured in the darkest part of hell. So it would serve you well to be nice to me." Her face twisted in anger as she moved closer to him and raised a hand to strike. In the space of a heartbeat Dean realized that defiance would cause him more pain which would in turn cause Faith pain. So, he turned his face away in a false show of fear.

The demon's hand slipped back to her side and she turned away, "Actually, I don't get my hands dirty any more. And these two have scores to settle with you anyway." She motioned to the two black eyed men that watched like two starved dogs anticipating their next meal and moved to sit in the plush chair at the edge of the circle of light.

For a moment Dean looked around and assessed their situation. A large warehouse, three bad guys, chains around his wrists, no shirt, no shoes, no gun, Faith tied and gagged...he saw no way of escape. "What do you want?"

Guy procured a glass of wine from the table beside her, crossed her long legs, and took a small sip. "This is revenge, Dean, plain and simple." She paused holding the glass in the air and nodded to the muscled gray haired man closest to Dean. "You may begin."

With a growl and a smirk he took two long strides and swung a boulder sized fist across Dean's face. Blood spewed from his mouth as his head whipped to the side. He slowly turned to face Faith and saw the blood running down her chin and the tears stinging in her eyes. _It's gonna be okay, baby. Just hang in there. Sam's coming. He always comes._

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

I don't usually post chapters this close together, but this has been a rough week and I wanted to do something that makes me happy. So, here's an extra chapter.

Thank you so much for reading and a huge thank you to those who have reviewed! I love hearing your take on things.

Hope you have a great weekend!

xo,Jen


	14. Ch 14 - Irony

**Chapter 14 - Irony**

Sam woke to the sound of the door slamming shut. Groggily he whispered, "Dean?" He sat up and pushed the brown strands of hair away from his eyes listening for sounds in the bathroom and adjusting his vision to the room around him. "Dean." He said with more confidence as he threw the covers off. Faith was missing from her bed, the bathroom was empty, and the room was silent. Sam wrapped his hand around the polished handle of his gun and stepped quickly out the door. His bare feet touched concrete as his eyes swept the walkway and stairs. Just as he stepped closer to the railing, gun at the ready, a trunk slammed shut followed by a car door and an engine starting. Sam spotted the gray sedan and raced down the stairs into the parking lot. He had no idea who or what could have taken them, but he knew he couldn't catch them on foot. Memorizing the tag number he ran back up the stairs into the room and dialed the local police. "This is FBI Special Agent Jones…"

::::::

Dean sat with his pounding head back against the damp wall, his arms dangling from chains just above his shoulders leaving his fingers numb, and his face covered in blood and bruises. To Dean's relief, Faith had passed out from the impact and the pain after the fourth blow. Her mind was silent, but her body mirrored his broken and bleeding face, swollen eyes, cuts, burns, and bruises. The demons had been merciless in their torture for nearly two hours. As the sunlight filtered through the high broken windows of the warehouse Dean could still make out the nearby production line with meat hooks still dangling from the ceiling on long chains.

 _Slaughter house. This place isn't ironic at all._

It had been just over two hours since the last heated metal brand had pressed against his now exposed thigh. Guy had received a phone call and quickly directed her henchmen to guard duty. Her parting words had been a comfort and a terror, "Don't get comfortable. This isn't over for you yet Winchester and I've got a laundry list of great surprises in store for your little brother, too." Her heels had clicked methodically away until there was nothing but the sound of Faith's faint rattled breathing and the random drips and splashes of water throughout the derelict building.

 _Sam's coming. Damn, I hope he knows this whole shitty thing is a trap._

Dean's worry stirred Faith's mind causing her head to loll in an awkward direction and slowly come to an upright position. Her left eye was swollen nearly shut just as his was, but she attempted to open it anyway with instant regret.

 _Oh my god. That hurts. No, everything hurts. What the hell is...Where are we agai...we...we...who's we...I'm tied...oh no...Oh No! What if I didn't really get away! What if I dreamed every bit of my freedom! What if he's here! Gotta run...can't get caught again..._

She tugged against her restraints sending shockwaves of pain throughout her entire body.

 _Whoa...hold on. It's just me. It's Dean. I'm sitting right across from you. Take a deep breath. Can you see me?_

Faith slowly, carefully nodded as her thoughts continued to swirl incoherently.

 _He's not here?_

 _Who's not here?_

Faith's one good eye searched the room as the memories from the night before came back to her in small fragments.

 _Faith, look at me. You're in shock, probably have a concussion, and some broken bones. But the guys that took us are scared cause Sammy is on his way. You hear me?_

 _I...I hear you._

 _Just stay with me, sweetheart. Take deep breaths and try to relax. Now you wanna tell me who you thought was here?_

A tear slid down her cheek and the defenses of her mind began to crumble.

 _It's...I just...I don't know if I can go through this again. Not right now._

The tears fell in earnest releasing the last remaining sticky silver tape from a corner causing it to hang off her mouth. She gingerly leaned down to her hand stretching as far as she could without injuring herself more and pulled the tape free. She took a deep calming breath and released it slowly, steadying her nerves as much as was possible while being tied to a chair.

Dean pressed his worry for Sam's safety to the corner of his mind and allowed Faith the space to let down the dam holding back the darkness in the corners of her soul. He watched as she sifted through the rubble and debris carefully choosing what she would share.

 _Um...okay...so, when I was 24 I met this guy. He was a sweet talker, very charming, fresh out of the military so he was ripped. His name was Jameson._

Images of love and happiness played through landing on a beautiful sunny afternoon in a park where a ring appeared.

 _We didn't date long before we were engaged and three months later we got married. He...he had a lot of ambitions, but was never very good at figuring out how to accomplish them. And then...um...a few...a few months…_

Dean watched the emotional struggle tear her heart as a flood of memories poured in from every direction.

 _Deep breath. It's okay._

 _A few months after we were married the nightmare started and he would go crazy knocking things over and yelling. It was classic PTSD symptoms, but I was so young and inexperienced...I had no idea. And he clammed up, absolutely refused to talk about it. I had good intentions, I really did! But I didn't know how to help him and he began to spiral._

The tumultuous feelings from the past swept through her revealing stories of candid conversations turning to bitter fights, financial discussions turning to screaming, and a choice of television show turning into a rough hand grasping her around the wrist and slinging her across the floor.

 _He couldn't keep a job, he moved us over and over and over again chasing this idea and then the next. I lost my business and all my friends. I...I was isolated from my family… But I think I could have lived with that...maybe...I mean, I don't know._

Loneliness settled in the pit of her stomach leaving Dean with a bitter taste.

 _But it was the anger...he...he got to where he hated me...and I couldn't figure out why. I changed everything about myself that I possibly could to make him happy, but it...it just wasn't enough...I guess. He was drinking a lot and...and he wasn't a nice drunk._

Dean struggled to control his anger at the images of rage and violence.

 _Over the three years we were together it just got worse and worse. He would get violent...but it started small, so I guess I just didn't realize… At least not until I...I...um...I got pregnant._

Her mind froze on the moment she looked at the little black and white ultrasound picture. Dean's heart raced, blood pressure rose, and anger surged as he realized where her story was leading. Her mind backtracked to the night she was forced to bed by the man who was supposed to love and protect her.

 _One night he came home mad...I mean really mad. He had lost his job and was making us move to New York City to chase another one of his ideas. I was about 5 months along...and he came home yelling...and…_

The dream from a few nights ago replayed of a short stocky figure catching her at the end of the hall, but this time the story continued through a beating that she barely survived.

 _I lost the baby...it was a boy._

Tears streamed down her face in earnest and the emptiness of a loss settled deep in both of their souls.

Dean, a man rarely at a loss, had no words. The distance between them felt like miles instead of a few feet as he longed to wrap his strong arms around her shaking form and hold her until all the pain melted away.

The pain of the moment was forgotten in the pain of the past as Faith struggled to regain her composure. Dean could hear her internal coach whispering from the corner of her mind. _He's gone. It's over. He can't hurt you._

Dean stepped in with soft words. _I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry._

::::::

The day passed slowly and quietly. Dean's concern for Faith had increased exponentially throughout the day as he watched the symptoms of concussion, bruised or broken bones, and dehydration appear on both of them. His fear for Sam's safety shot up when he heard a commotion around the corner and out of sight. He held his breath as silence reigned once again. Then the slow rhythmic click of heels grew louder as Guy made her appearance around the corner followed by the gray haired man.

"Put them in the room down the hall." She ordered.

Dean started to question her, but knew he would either be ignored or lied too.

The black eyed man called for his associate and efficiently they maneuvered Faith and Dean down a nearby hall and locked them in a small office space with an adjoining bathroom. The floor was littered with dirt and papers and only a small desk chair sat in the far corner. Faith had been deposited just inside the door while Dean had been shoved across the room to avoid an escape attempt. He painfully moved to Faith's side scooping up her head and shoulders to rest in his lap.

Faith's mind stirred first followed slowly by her aching limbs.

"Don't try to sit up just yet." Dean cautioned. His voice was gravelly from dehydration.

Faith complied without question. Just the small movement of her hands was excruciating. Opening her mouth to speak split her lip open again, but she persisted. "The bed bug inn doesn't sound so bad right now." Her voice was raspy. Dean gave her a small smile and stroked the tangled curls away from her face. "Does this kind of thing happen to you often?" Dean's mind traced back over the years highlighting the many times he had been in a tough situation. "I'll take that as a yes." She moved to sit up, but paused inhaling sharply. "I think they broke everything!"

"Kind of feels that way, but I think it's just a few bruised ribs. Only thing that's definitely broken is the finger." Dean held up his left hand revealing a blue swollen index finger. _Probably shoulda kept my mouth shut and that one wouldn't have happened._

"Yeah, it probably would have eventually no matter what you did or said." Faith responded aloud as she continued the slow process of moving to a sitting position with his assistance. _Wonder why they stuck is in here?_

 _They're scared. I don't think their little plan is playing out like they had hoped._

They leaned against the wall shoulder to shoulder, Faith hoping for a miracle and Dean knowing Sam would come.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

You guys are the best! Thanks for sticking with me! I'll confess that I left a few gaps with what's happening with the demons. I did do it on purpose because I didn't want their situation to steal the spotlight away from our main characters. I had several possible ideas though: maybe Crowley found them or maybe the local authorities spotted them or maybe they just wanted to go out on the town and be assholes to some other innocent bystander...so, use your imagination as to what may be keeping them away and feel free to leave your ideas in a review!

Again, thanks for reading!

xo,Jen


	15. Ch 15 - Timing Is Everything

**Chapter 15 - Timing Is Everything**

He was frustrated. _Twenty-four hours! It's been twenty-four damn hours!_ Sam slammed the laptop shut, pushed back from the table, and stood with an extra measure of force knocking his chair over. Castiel wasn't answering, the local authorities had no leads, time was running out for Faith and Dean, and Sam was completely stumped. He was pacing the floor of the small motel room when his phone lit up. He held his breath when he saw the sheriff's office on caller id.

::::::

Dean had pulled the cushion from the seat of the lone chair in their room and was now stretched out across the floor resting his head against the rough fabric and foam. Faith nestled closer with her head resting on his shoulder as the chill of the concrete floor seeped further into her aching body.

The door couldn't be forced open and the two small windows were too high to escape, so he had settled for a small piece of tile chipped from the bathroom floor and had painstakingly drawn a perfect devil's trap in front of the office door. His mind was currently ignoring the pain receptors in his body and focused on reviewing every possible option for escape.

Faith adjusted her uncomfortable position scraping her bare shivering legs across the concrete. She sighed knowing that there would be no comfortable position on the floor. _At least there's a bathroom...even if the plumbing doesn't work well._ She was exhausted from the overabundance of stress and never ending pain, but was only able to doze leaving her thoughts to run amuck in the fog of concussion.

Her mind circled back to her connection with this relatively unknown man that she was now curled against and practically clinging to for her very life. She could hear his mind duly fading in and out of consciousness rehearsing escape and rescue options. She watched her left hand with it's swollen and colorful index finger rise and fall with his breathing as she rested it gently on his bare chest. _If this didn't suck so bad right now, this would really...not suck. Okay, that didn't sound quite right, but it definitely would not suck._

 _I hear ya._

Faith's heart started to thunder as she realized she had let her conscious thoughts slip through.

 _I'm pretty sure there's no keeping secrets anymore._ Dean thought with a note of humor.

If Faith's thoughts could whisper she was sure that's exactly what she was trying to do at this very moment. Embarrassment swept over her.

 _You're right. This would really not suck! And before you even think it...it's not just the ring. You're hot!_

 _A hot mess!_

They both quietly laughed and felt immediate regret as pain seared their left sides from bruised ribs.

Faith's logic kicked in momentarily as she reassessed the scarab ring and the effects it was having on her...their emotions. _This thing is making us fall in…_ She refused to let her mind think the last word and so did he. Love was not something she thought could really exist and he believed it to be a path that led everyone to their death.

Solid steps echoed down the hall causing Faith and Dean to push to a sitting position. Dean maneuvered as quickly as he could behind the door. It was one of the many opportunities he had hoped for. Keys jangled and clicked the lock causing Faith's heart to pound with fear of their captors and fear for Dean's safety. Should this escape fail they would most certainly be killed.

Dean took a steadying breath as the door slid open to reveal the burly grey headed possessed man. He grabbed the door and pushed it violently knocking the demon off balance and directly into the trap. Dean began spouting Latin. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…"

The demon inside began to scream and struggle drawing the attention of his associate coming down the hall.

"...omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"

Each spoken word felt like a thousand as Faith watched the scene unfold before her. Dean was reciting as fast as was humanly possible, but it would not be fast enough.

"...ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura…"

The shorter dark haired man pushed through the door sidestepping the obvious trap as his cohort began to rise in black plumes from his victim.

"...tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"

The lifeless body went limp as the black fog flew through the nearby broken window. Dean squared off his shoulders with a glint of determination in his eyes as he took a step back into the room clearing space for the coming brawl. The remaining demon didn't hesitate and dove for Dean without reserve. The pounding in his head and the dehydration caused his muscles to move much slower than he anticipated forcing him to take the attack head on. He landed squarely on his back with the demon quickly overpowered him, but he refused to stop fighting back until he heard Guy's low angry voice from across the room.

"You've made a bad mistake, Winchester." Guy's fingers were wrapped around Faith's neck holding her several inches off the ground.

::::::

"We don't need your girlfriend." Guy said with a smile as she watched her remaining follower toss a trussed up and fighting Dean Winchester into the back of a van. Guy held Faith by the back of her hair forcing her head to tilt back at an awkward angle. Her wrists were secured behind her back with a thick rough rope and tape was once again across her dry cracked lips. Dean fought against his ropes with all his might knowing that if the demons attempted to drive away it would most certainly result in Faith's death and most likely his own. The dull silver tape across his mouth could not contain his fury as he launched an explicit assault on the vile crossroads demon. Faith's fear was pulsing through his veins and his anger through hers.

With her flushed face pointed towards the sky she shivered in the cold air and strangely noted the full moon bathing their surroundings with a pale blue light. Her eyes narrowed as she registered a reflective glint from the flat roof of the warehouse just as Guy slammed the back doors of the black panel van. She saw the glint again and realized reinforcements had arrived.

Their minds rang out in unison. _Sam's here. Move away from the demons._

Without hesitation Faith brought her right knee up and kicked back into Guy's shin with as much force as she could muster causing her to stumble in her stilettos and loosen her grip on Faith's gritty hair. Faith's bare feet stumbled across the loose gravel towards the open door of the warehouse just as the first shots rang out from the rooftop. Guy collapsed to the ground in rage with a devil's trap bullet lodged in her shoulder. The dark haired possessed man rushed for the driver's side of the van narrowly missing the second bullet.

Faith crumbled inside the door with the throbbing in her head taking over the distance between them.

 _Faith!_ Dean's mind called out for her through the darkness closing in around them.

The van jolted forward spinning gravel up behind it. As it began to move forward, Faith's mind registered that she could no longer see through the fog or hear over the thundering in her hears. Dean had gone completely silent in her mind and the sheer terror pulsing through her veins wiped out any chance of hearing the third and final shot.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you are having a wonderful day! xo,Jen


	16. Ch 16 - Good News

**Chapter 16 - Good News**

A faint beeping sound and the smell of cleansers filtered into Faith's senses about the same time an overwhelming sense of panic hit her. Her eyes lazily slid open to see a blurry television hanging from the ceiling of a blurry white room. Sunlight danced across the room peeping between the colorful leaves still clinging to the tree outside the large window to her left. She slowly turned her head right and saw the source of the panic.

Dean was clumsily pulling at his bedding and attempting to remove his IV.

 _Dean?_

He was half sitting when he heard her quiet plea. His mind was foggy from the medications and it took him a moment to stop and look her direction. She gave him a sleepy smile and he gave her one back.

 _I hate hospitals._

 _I can see that. Are you okay?_

Dean felt her genuine concern and was amazed that she could selflessly look past her own pain and care about his wellbeing. He looked her over thoroughly taking note of each injury that matched his own. Bandaged burns on the legs, wraps around the bruised ribs, splinted left hands and fingers, stitches on the foreheads near the hairlines, bruises around the left eyes, and split lips.

 _You're beautiful._

He could see the faint red tinge in her cheeks at the compliment which caused his heart to physically squeeze. Carefully and painfully he sat up in his bed. He sighed and rolled his eyes as the sheets fell away to reveal a classic hospital gown and Faith could not stifle her laughter. Letting down the bed railing he slid his legs over the side placing bare feet onto the icy tiles. He wrapped his three free fingers on his left hand around the thin metal pole of the IV cart to brace himself as he took a few steps to cross the room coming to stand beside Faith's bed.

Anticipating his actions she slid to one side and watched as he lowered the railing and carefully climbed into bed. Adjusting the tangle of tubes and wires he wrapped his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

 _This doesn't suck._ Faith thought as she placed her bandaged hand on his chest and wrapped her leg around his careful not to disturb the dressing on his thigh.

 _Definitely does not._ Dean thought with a sigh.

A moment later they were drifting in peaceful dreams together.

::::::

Sam held a steaming cup of horrible hospital coffee in one hand and eased the door open with the other. Stepping inside his eyes landed on Dean's empty bed and for a brief moment he froze until he saw the tangle of tubes and limbs in Faith's bed. They were sound asleep and although he knew their connection would only grow stronger through their contact he refused to wake them. Instead, he took a seat in the plastic covered chair closest to Dean's empty bed and resumed his research in preparation of the coming separation. A phone call from Dr. Markham had just confirmed the scarab ring safely tucked in a secure case at the Cleveland Institute of Art. As soon as the pair was released from the hospital they would make the one day drive to Cleveland. In a matter of hours, Faith would be safely home and Sam and Dean would be back on the hunt.

::::::

Faith had woken to find Dean still curled around her. His nearness and steady breathing bringing comfort at first was replaced by a strange insecurity. Her pulse quickened as she studied through half open eyes the plains of his face, firm jawline and dark lashes. She realized how she must look in comparison to the incredible man lying with her and made a slow retreat to the bathroom in search of a comb and toothbrush. After a few moments to herself in the white tiled bathroom, she quietly slipped past Sam's sleeping form stretched out on Dean's former bed and climbed back under the sheets. Dean stirred as the bed shifted.

 _Good morning, sunshine._

Dean stretched his stiff limbs and peeked through his long dark lashes. "Good morning." His gravely voice still thick with sleep.

The sun had long since faded from the sky and moonbeams filtered through the window near their shared hospital bed.

"What time is it?" Dean yawned.

"I don't know." She pushed her self consciousness aside and attempted to listen to his waking thoughts.

 _Hospital...ugh. I'm starving._

 _Me too._

She handed him the large plastic cup filled with water and crushed ice keeping the straw wedged between her fingers. He gratefully took a sip then glanced up to meet her gaze. It was a strangely intense moment only broken when Faith tore her eyes away to place the dripping cup back on the tray table. Dean was propped on an elbow looking up at her when she turned back around. She measured the intensity in his gaze against the fierce look in his eyes that she had seen when he faced monsters and saw no difference. Their hearts beat in unison thundering to a forbidden rhythm. Faith's thoughts broke the silence as she moved to lie next to him, warm in the comfort of his arms.

 _We shouldn't do this._

 _I know._

Slowly he moved his lips towards hers pausing as Faith held her breath.

 _Trust me._ He implored just as his lips brushed hers in a gentle sweet kiss. She sighed, placing her wrapped hand on his stubbled cheek. He leaned in carefully deepening the kiss with restrained passion. She returned each movement with a measure of restraint that would collapse if he continued. Slowly he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. His deep breathing told more than his thoughts dared reveal and her held breath gave him confirmation of her growing desire. With sheer force of will he slid back to her side and wrapped a possessive arm around her pulling her in close. Faith released the breath she had unknowingly been holding and pressed her body to his settling back into what had been a comfortable and sleepy position a few moments before.

::::::

Dean woke to Sam's gentle prodding.

"Hi."

"You look like hell."

"Thanks." Dean answered with a small smile. He untangled from the sheets and wires while gently pulling his arm from beneath a sleeping Faith. He placed his feet on the floor and took one step to test his balance. The moment his weight shifted forward on the third step the headache that he knew all too well shot through his brain and the ringing pierced his eardrums. Faith woke immediately to the same unpleasant throbbing and ringing.

She unknowingly shouted, "Dean? Where are you going?"

Sam wrapped his large hand around Dean's wrists stalling his descent to the floor and pulled him back to Faith's bedside.

A moment passed with heavy breathing and frustration from all three.

"I was going to the bathroom."

::::::

Dean sat outside the bathroom door listening to Faith take a shower and Sam go over the details of the scarab ring for the second time.

"Dean, are you listening?"

"Hmm? Yeah...yeah. You're telling me we've got to get to Cleveland fast, get this professor to read the writing on the ring, and follow the instructions. Sounds pretty straightforward." Dean was clearly distracted.

"Dude, are you watching her shower?" Sam said in a hushed voice.

"What? No! I can just...I can just hear her thinking and it's really loud and distracting and…" Dean adjusted in his chair.

Sam leaned in to whisper, "You haven't slept with her, have you?"

Dean crossed his arms and looked at his brother in exasperation, "Seriously, Sam. You really gonna ask me that?"

 _You know I can hear you guys, right?_

Dean threw his hands in the air and looked over his shoulder at the door, "Yes, I know you can hear us."

Sam sat back on the hospital bed and looked at his brother with concern and a touch of humor. "I'm just asking because from what I can find it looks like if you...um...seal the deal, then you automatically forfeit your 'right to separation'."

Sam watched Dean process the new information and opt for a new topic, "Any luck on the sacrifice the goddess wants?"

"Not yet."

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Thanks so much for sticking with me! I actually wrote the last chapter several weeks ago. It was tough to wrap this thing up because I really didn't want it to end. After reading through it again I've noticed a few places I feel like there are gaps, but I just want to finish putting it out there. So, I hope you'll forgive my novice status and exuberance in publishing. This has been a great experience for me!

Thanks again to Beachwishin, Mariamo, & Dreamsnake for the reviews!

Just a few more chapters to go...so hang in there!

xo,Jen


	17. Ch 17 - So Close

**Chapter 17 - So Close**

Faith had started the journey to Cleveland in the backseat only to force Dean to pull over a few minutes into the drive so she could toss the meager contents of her stomach on the side of the road. The combination of medication and recovering from a head injury had not set well no matter how far she leaned into the front seat and air conditioning. Dean, on the other hand, was feeling much better after a full day of rest and a good night's sleep. Sam thoughtfully relinquished his shotgun seat and leaned forward to join the verbal conversation. Occasionally Faith and Dean would both smile or laugh or share a knowing look giving clues to their internal conversations.

Dean wanted to reach for her several times but intentionally avoided the contact. Instead he focused on the easy conversation between them and Faith seemed to let her guard down since the incident from the night before had put her on edge. She found herself glancing his direction on more than one occasion longing to be closer, but pushed it aside as quickly as it registered.

It was late Wednesday afternoon when the trio pulled in the parking lot of a diner just outside of Cleveland Ohio. Sam sat on one side of the booth with his phone pressed to his ear.

"...great. We'll see you about 10. Thank you." Sam looked up from his call to find both Faith and Dean, inches apart, looking at him expectantly. "Well, he's going to meet us in his office after his first class in the morning. And he'll take us to see the ring."

Faith broached the question, "Has he been able to translate the text on the band?"

"Yes, but he said he wants to talk to us about it in person because it's not making a whole lot of sense."

"That's never good."

Dean leaned back in the padded seat with sarcasm written all over his face, "Awesome."

::::::

Faith sat on the floor outside the bathroom listening to Dean sing in the shower.

"Are you sure you don't want a chair?" Sam asked from across the room for the third time.

"I'm good. Thank you though." Faith answered with gratitude at his concern. "However, it's probably going to be a bitch to get up from here." She said with a small laugh. Her ribs were still sore and her left hand was still bruised with the index finger splinted, the burn on her thigh was stinging, and her stitches were itchy. Her thoughts betrayed her and circled back to the night she watched Dean get pummeled and her heart ached for the pain she had watched inflicted. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she looked blankly at the ugly painting that awkwardly contrasted against the grimy wallpaper.

 _I can hear you, you know._

Faith smiled at his mimicking tone and dashed the tears away. Throwing her hands in the air she said in her best Dean voice, "Yes, I know you can hear me!"

Sam and Dean both erupted in laughter.

A few moments later found Faith and Dean leaning back on one of the queen sized headboards with a pillow wedged between them. Faith was using it as a pretense to prop her arm but internally she had to put the space between them. Sam sat behind his laptop pointing out new information he had found in connection with the ring. "So get this, the guy that crafted jewelry would often be buried with the collection that he hadn't sold or given away when he died."

"Why? It would make more sense to hand it down in his family and let them sell it. Like an inheritance." Faith jumped in.

"Seems that when he sold each piece he would give them instructions on how and when to wear it according to what the gods would tell him."

"I thought it was blessed by a priest."

"It was, but in the presence of the jeweler."

"Ah, I see."

Dean put down the remote and joined the conversation, "And what exactly does that have to do with anything?"

"It's very possible that 'the hands that made it can be the hands that break it'...at least that's what some of the mythology seems to be pointing too."

::::::

Dean was lying face down on the bed with his face turned away from her, but he wasn't asleep. Faith kept rehearsing the last few days in her mind, absolutely confounded by the turn her life had taken. He felt her heartbeat quicken when she relived their capture. He felt her pain be compared to the pain of her previous loss. He felt her fear of losing him when the van doors had closed. He felt her astonishment at how much she cared in such a short time. He felt a healthy dose of respect and gratitude for Sam and his part in their rescue and his resourcefulness in finding a solution for their growing problem. And then her mind grew quiet...Dean's face was in her mind. She had no idea he was awake and watching because she audibly sighed. A grin spread across his face and she instantly knew. Without a thought she smacked him on the back causing him to laugh and gingerly roll over to face her.

 _You could have said something, jerk!_

 _Sorry._ He was definitely not sorry and she knew it. If there had been an ounce of light in the room he would have seen the bright shade of red in her cheeks.

 _You weren't kidding when you said your mind doesn't shut down when you're trying to sleep._

 _Yeah, and it's a bit overwhelming tonight. I'm really sorry!_

 _Don't be. You've been through a lot._

He lightly brushed his fingertips down her cheek and cupped her jaw. Faith was ready and willing for his touch. The constant evasion had worn down her defenses and she leaned in to find his face inches from her own. There were no warnings between them, no fear of the consequences, only desire. Dean pressed a kiss to her waiting lips and without reserve she pulled him close. Her defenses were lost in the need for him. She pressed her body against his bare chest feeling every part of his desire as it matched her own. He pressed the kiss deeper and she opened for him as they explored one another's mouth. Dean's self control was slipping fast as his hand slid from her jaw, to her shoulder, to her chest. Faith put her leg over his hip and moved to the rhythm of their heartbeat, the thin fabrics between them feeling like yards of material. His hand went down to her thigh landing squarely on the healing burn sending a jolt of pain through them both. The shock pulled Faith immediately from the fog of desire and she moved her lips from his. Neither wanted to move for fear of sending them spiraling out of control once again. Dean put his forehead on hers and heaved a heavy sigh.

 _Now this sucks._

Faith agreed wholeheartedly, _It definitely does!_

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

"Be yourself. No one else is better qualified."

"Just be yourself. Life is to short to be someone else."

Just came from our local 'business after hours' networking event and I always feel like I have to be this polished version of myself. Tonight I opted for professional me...just me. Worked out well and I had a good time. So, I encourage you to be yourself. And to those people who don't like the real you... to quote someone we all know and love, Sam Winchester, "Screw you!"

You guys are great! Hope you have a great weekend!

xo,Jen


	18. Ch 18 - Out of Time

**Chapter 18 - Out of Time**

The gray morning light slipped through the shades in the small dodgy motel room. Rain pattered on the pavement puddling in the hollows and dips just outside. The sounds were soothing and the warmth that surrounded her beckoned her to stay, but a voice kept whispering her name.

 _Faith. We've gotta get up._

Her mind was quiet and restful. She was sound asleep. Dean hated to move, but knew that they needed to be up and ready. Somehow he knew that today would be a turning point in this situation and possibly even in his life. The one thing that truly had him concerned was the sacrifice. Gods and goddesses were not known for being kind and exacting retribution was a favorite hobby.

 _Faith. Seriously, we've got to get moving._

 _Five more minutes._

Faith was not a snooze button kind of person, but today she felt the security and warmth of his arms and knew that it would soon all be over.

"Okay, I'm up." Her sleepy voice whispered into the warmth of his skin. Faith slowly pulled her body away from his. She felt him shiver as her finger brushed gently down the length of his arm pausing for a moment when he captured her hand in his own. Their connection surged like an electric shock causing them to momentarily halt all movement. Faith slowly opened her eyes to find Dean watching her intently.

 _This isn't going to be as easy as I thought._

He echoed her sentiment. _Same here._

Faith slipped her fingers from his and moved to sit, but was instantly slammed with a thundering headache and intense ringing. A small cry escaped her lips and Dean immediately reached for her placing a hand on her arm. As quickly as it had come it was gone.

 _Oh great._

::::::

Sam led the way down the hall to Dr. Markham's office with Faith and Dean trailing behind hand in hand. It had been an interesting morning trying to get ready and maintain physical contact. Brushing teeth, doing hair, covering bruises with makeup, eating breakfast, and of course getting dressed. Sam had gone in search of breakfast leaving Faith to yell at Dean about keeping his eyes shut. It had all been funny until his hand had slid to an interesting place giving them both reasons to catch their breath.

All three were clad in black suits with the men sporting their best black ties and FBI badges. Faith was uneasy with the lies about to be told, but knew it was the only way to accomplish their mission. Dean squeezed her hand in response.

Sam stopped in front of a partially open door and rapped his knuckles on the stained hardwood. "Dr. Markham?"

"It's open. Please come in." A solid European lilt in the voice beckoned them through with a small smile. A short rotund gray haired man stood behind a large desk that was covered in an array of papers and books. He glanced up from his search pulling small wire rim glasses from his nose and greeted them with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. "Good morning! So good of you to be prompt. Professor Markham, and you must be from the FBI. Agent Berry, I presume?"

Sam reached across the desk and clasp hands with the professor, "Yes sir. And this is my partner, Agent Cooper."

Dr. Markham looked at Dean warily noting the bruises, stitches, and split lips on him and the young lady beside him.

Dean nodded and gave a small smile, "Hi."

"And who might you be, young lady?"

Dean spoke up, "This is Miss Garron. She's an agent in training. She's shadowing us for this particular assignment."

Dean had placed a hand inconspicuously on the small of her back maintaining their connection. Faith nodded and smiled, "Hello."

"Well, enough of the pleasantries. Let's discuss the reason for your visit, shall we. Please take a seat, make yourselves comfortable."

Faith and Dean moved to the small leather sofa situated to the side in front of rows of bookshelves and Sam took a seat in the small armchair, his size making the chair seem even more insignificant.

"It's quite an interesting piece." Dr. Markham remarked as he reclined in his desk chair.

Getting directly to the point Sam leaned forward, "Have you been able to decipher the hieroglyphics?"

With a deep sigh the professor leaned over his desk and placed his wire rim glasses back on his bearded face, "Yes. But...some of these markings are so ancient that there are no exact words in our modern language that can accurately represent their meaning. The goddess Hathor predates historical record and the Egyptian culture. The markings here are some of the earliest I've ever seen."

Dean joined in the conversation, "Does that mean no one can read them?"

The professor looked over his glasses at him, "Not to sound overconfident, but if anyone can decipher the text...well, let's just say that you are in the right place."

"Great." Sam said with relief.

"I do wish I had more time to study."

"We're completely out of time." Dean replied a bit too quickly.

The professor looked at Dean curiously, the wheels of thought turning. He began to speak, but Sam cut him off. "What my partner is trying to say is that we believe this piece specifically is connected to the break in."

"Ah, I see." The professor began to drone on about Egyptian mythology and symbols all connecting back to Hathor.

Faith sat close to Dean with her thoughts in turmoil. _What if his translation is incorrect? What if this doesn't work? What if something goes wrong? What if we don't have everything we need to complete the separation? What if…?_

Dean didn't utter a word. Not even a thought. He simply took a deep calming breath and placed his hand on her thigh out of sight of the professor. Her mind grew quiet.

"...so if I'm correct this should be the most accurate translation." The professor passed a sheet of paper across the desk to Sam.

"Thank you. And where is the ring now?"

"I have it stored in the lab just down the hall. I'm planning to begin repairs later this afternoon. Would you like to see it?"

"Sure."

The band was broken in half and stone and signant was lying beside it on the black felt. The professor donned gloves and held up each piece for them to examine. Faith and Dean stood back just in case the ring held more power than they already knew and could cause them more complications.

::::::

Rain drops ran down the glass beside the booth where the trio sat. Faith and Dean were on one side of the booth while Sam sat on the other rereading the paper the professor had given him.

"This is ridiculous! There's just so many options!"

"Best guess, Sam. We're running out of time here." Dean raised his and Faith's linked hands.

"Okay." He paused reading the first few words once again. "To reject the gift of Hathor offer the leaves of her tree and the oil of poppy. The hand or finger of the master or creator is the hand that shall steal or break or something…." Sam was clearly frustrated. "Turn back the stone and remove the bonds that tie but Hathor shall have the love and the life."

Faith was completely puzzled. "Come again?"

"What the hell, Sammy? How's that supposed to make any sense at all!"

Sam put the paper down and ran a hand through his damp tousled hair. He opened the laptop and punched a few keys with a deep breath.

Faith looked out the window at the rain and Dean listened to her logical mind run through the optional meanings.

 _Leaves from a specific tree, poppy oil, hand of the creator...that's probably the mummy...turning the stone...the men of letter's guy said they turned the stone in opposite directions...removing the bond...Hathor shall have...the love? The life? Sacrificing a life? Does that mean one of us will have to…_

 _Sacrifice so the other can live._

Faith and Dean looked to one another and then down to their clasped hands resting on the table.

Sam interrupted their train of thought, "The tree that's mentioned is most likely a sycamore tree. Egyptian mythology says that it's the 'sacred tree of the goddess Hathor'." Sam looked up from his laptop at the two across from him and watched the exchange playing across their faces.

 _Don't even say it._

 _Faith, it's my job. This is what I…_

 _Absolutely not. It's got to mean something else._

 _What else can it mean?!_

"What's going on?" Sam questioned.

 _Don't tell Sam._

Dean nodded in response and turned his face to look at his brother, "I think we've figured out part of it."

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

My apologies for not posting yesterday. This week is a bit busier than I had anticipated. Only a few more chapters left! I can hardly believe it's coming to a close. Thank you so much to those of you who are reading and to those that have reviewed. I'm truly humbled by the number of people that are going through this story with me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

xo,Jen


	19. Ch 19 - No Turning Back

**Chapter 19 - No Turning Back**

"That's a terrible plan!" Faith said aloud.

Sam gave her a smile devoid of humor and stood to leave, "It's not that bad in comparison to his last one."

"Hey, it worked...mostly."

"Yeah, except for burning the place down." Sam slipped the brown coat over his plaid layer and reached for the door handle. "I'll be back in an hour or so." He stepped out the door and turned back specifically looking at Dean, "Don't do anything dumb."

Dean scoffed and Sam closed the door. Faith listened to the Impala roar to life and became acutely aware of their moment alone in combination with the hand that rested on her hip.

 _This is not a good idea._

"What? The plan?" _Or us being alone._

 _Both._ "For my sanity, let's walk through this one more time."

They stood facing the window specifically not looking at one another. The curtains were open and the blinds slatted enough to see the continual rain.

Dean sighed, "Okay. Sam's going to get the poppy oil and sycamore leaves. We're breaking into the museum tonight and stealing the mummy's hand, and then we're breaking into the professor's lab, getting the ring and doing the spell."

"It's a terrible plan...with no details. We're all going to jail."

"We haven't been to jail in months!"

Faith turned to him in amazement as the vision of the brothers being interrogated played in her mind, "Not exactly the point."

Dean grew serious and turned her completely towards him resting both hands on her hips leaning down to look her eye to eye. "The point is we do this kind of thing all the time. It'll be alright."

Faith's voice held a tremor, "And what about the sacrifice? I won't let you die for me. Your life is far more important than mine will ever be."

"No, it's not. You know what I am…"

Faith cut him off with a gesture, "Don't devalue yourself, Dean! You and Sam are the only reason this world even still exists!"

Dean started to interrupt but she cut him off. "The world needs you! And as much as I have no desire to die I know that your worth is far more than mine. You are needed, I am not."

Her mind was playing through the things she loved and would miss most in this life: family, friend, pet, job… "If heaven is what I've seen in your mind then I'll be just fine."

Tears rolled down her cheeks and Dean took her in his arms. His cheek rested against her hair and a gentle hand stroked the back of her head while she cried silently. Dean's eyes filled with tears as he answered her, "You're priceless, Faith. You're life is priceless. I would never let you or anyone else sacrifice their life for me. We're going to get through this together AND alive."

"I don't see how." She said pulling slowly away to look up into those beautiful green eyes she had come to know so well.

"Once we do the spell, we'll probably be put on some sort of trial...those assholes love a good grilling...and we'll use some Matlock skills to get out of it."

Faith couldn't help but laugh as she reached to his face and wiped the single escaped tear away, "So, basically we're winging it."

"Pretty much."

"That's a terrible plan."

He leaned down and pressed his soft lips to hers effectively cutting off her words and thoughts.

::::::

It was just after midnight when Sam finished hot wiring the alarm system and three shadowed figures slipped through the back door of the Cleveland Art Museum.

 _This is such a bad idea._

Dean turned back to Faith and gave her a serious look.

 _Fine. I'll be quiet, but this is nuts._

Her fingers were holding tight to the waistband of his denim as she trailed after them. Sam had not approved of them accompanying him but he also knew that he would most likely need backup from his older brother. Faith had studied the museum layout and now gestured to the left down a long wide corridor whose walls were covered with beautiful artwork. An ironic flash of lightning lit up the Egyptian exhibit that housed the mummy and undamaged artifacts. Soundlessly they slipped through the entrance and paused to assess their surroundings. Footsteps echoed down the hall giving all three reason for alarm. Faith and Dean ducked behind the jewelry display and Sam hid behind the mummy just as the security guard's flashlight beam swung into the room in search of potential danger. Faith's heart raced as she held her breath and Dean squeezed her arm. The footsteps continued down the hall leaving them to reassemble in the middle of the room and continue with their plan. Sam and Dean carefully removed the glass case from over the mummy and sat it on the floor with a slight clang of glass on tile. Faith looked towards the door, but the only sounds she heard was the rain tapping against the skylight above and a low distant rumble of thunder. She turned back to see Sam cutting through the swaths of fabric with a long blade and extracting the left hand of the mummy. It was a terrifying moment as Sam sawed into the wrist bones. The sound echoed through the room and down the hall. A merciful roll of thunder covered the final snap of bone. Footsteps echoed down the hall once again and a beam of light danced across the floor as Sam and Dean rushed to replace the glass. The guard stepped into the room and scanned his light across the cases pausing momentarily on the mummy. He took a small step forward examining the room more closely only to be distracted by a loud crack of thunder. He glanced up to the skylight and then back to the room before turning on his heels and walking off down the hallway.

Faith released the breath she was holding and dropped her head to Dean's shoulder. He turned to her and smiled. Sam gestured across the room as he rose to move towards the door.

Moments later they exited the building making a dash for the Impala parked down the street just as the sky's opened and a torrential rain soaked them completely. The soggy trio sloshed across the front leather seat as Dean fired up the engine and threw it into gear.

 _Fabulous._ Faith thought as she pulled soaking curls from her forehead careful to keep her still bandaged hand on Dean's thigh.

::::::

The doors to the university were mercifully unlocked and a few lights were on in offices down the halls. Dean and Faith lead the way hand in hand with Sam's squeaky shoes trailing behind them. It was just after 1am when they stepped into the dark lab. Dean clicked on a desk light near the center of the room where they had left the professor working on the scarab ring. Faith's hand rested on Dean's back as he clicked on another light. She could hear him running through defensive lines he intended to use at their upcoming possible trial. She was cold and shivering and afraid. Dean turned to face her without a thought or word and wrapped his arms around her quaking form.

"You're completely soaked. Come on, let's get that jacket off at least." He helped her out of the thin blue coat and took off his outer soaking layer followed by his green and blue plaid. She slipped out of the fitted black shirt revealing a small black tank top. Dean's heart skipped a beat as his hand rested on her bare hip and she slipped into the oversized button up.

 _Whoa._

 _Whoa yourself._ Faith answered mildly. Dean was wearing a short sleeved navy v-neck that fit him perfectly.

The pair missed Sam's mixing of ingredients as they studied one another.

 _I'm going to miss you._ Her words held so many meanings and emotions that Dean could hardly sort through them fast enough. He wrapped her in his arms and tucked her under his chin.

 _I'm gonna miss you too, princess._ His heart longed to hold on, to keep her close, to keep her safe. He never wanted to let go, but for her safety, her protection, and her very life he had to let this spell break and let her walk away.

"Okay, I think we're as ready as we're gonna get." Sam interjected. He placed a small gold bowl in the center of the circle of light underneath the desk lamp. "Did you get the ring?"

"Oh, um...just a sec." Faith reached around to the set of wooden drawers behind her and rifled through until she found the black felt case. She placed it on the table beside the bowl and slowly opened the lid. The ring was in one piece again and Dean felt her heart fall as she realized that there was no turning back. Carefully she lifted the ring from the case and held it over the bowl. She took a deep breath and met Dean's gaze with a mock resolve, "Okay. Let's get this done." She nodded to Sam and he looked over the paper from the professor once more.

"Leaves of the sycamore, oil of poppy, and one mummy hand." He dipped the mummy's fingers into the thin mixture and raised it to touch the gold ring held tightly between Faith's fingers.

Faith's heart was pounding wildly and Dean watched her try to control the slight tremor in her hand. He stood so close to her that her back rested on his chest.

"You first, Dean. Turn the ring twice in one direction." Dean's heart quickened as he did his brother's bidding. He slowly, carefully turned the stone to hieroglyph and then back to the stone in one full revolution. He took Faith's left hand in his own holding tight to the lifeline she unknowingly gave him. With his left hand he took the ring and held it out for Faith to take her turn. Her mind vibrated with thoughts as she tried desperately to focus on the task. She carefully turned the setting from stone to hieroglyph and then back to the stone all while holding her breath. As the last revolution completed a bright gold light exploded from the ring blinding all three. Dean wrapped a protective arm around Faith attempting to shield her from their fate. An excruciating headache pounded his mind just as the piercing sounds vibrated in his skull. Dean clutched his head and collapsed to the ground unable to hear or see.

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Hope you are having a good weekend!

I'm honestly having a hard time letting this story go. I keep rereading these chapters and I just don't want it to end. Guess it just proves I'm sentimental. This particular chapter is supposed to end in a cliffhanger...so, let me know if it worked!

Thank you so much for reading! And a special thank you for the reviews 3 Beachwishen, Mariamo, Dreamsnake, and Olivia0707!

xo,Jen


	20. Ch 20 - To Lose It All

**Chapter 20 - To Lose It All**

The warm sunshine wrapped him in a comforting fog. He could feel each blade of grass pressing against his face. The sweet smell of earth was accompanied by the sound of birds and splashing water. His thoughts lagged and for a brief moment he felt safe and at peace. He moved slightly to adjust his prone position and came to realize that he was lying on something or someone.

Faith felt the warmth on her face and a protective arm slung around her middle. Her head rested comfortably on the fresh earth and with a deep sigh her thoughts rang through to Dean. _This is nice._

In instant clarity, Dean sat up on his elbow and looked down at Faith lying beneath him. He stroked her cheek and ran a hand over her tousled curls. _You're beautiful._ Something about this moment felt so right, so comfortable, so peaceful, and yet a small part of him knew something was wrong. The nagging part of his mind forced him to look up and around to see the lush gardens surrounding them. He drank in every vivid shade of green, every bright flower, each drop of water splashing in the stone fountain, and the tall sycamore tree providing shade over an ornate marble bench. _Something's off._ Whatever was wrong was just out of reach in his mind, as if he knew but couldn't see.

Faith opened her eyes and reached a hand to gently touch his handsome face. She was at peace. _What's wrong sweetheart?_ She knit her brows in concern when he continued to study their surroundings. "What is it?" Faith almost didn't recognize her own voice. Everything sounded, smelled, and felt so vivid. She moved to sit facing him as he finally turned to look at her. A genuine smile spread across his features reaching even his eyes as they sat in the peaceful moment. He leaned in placing a kiss on her lips as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Pulling away he looked deep in her contented eyes and the smile slipped from his face. _The bruises are gone._

Faith gave him a quizzical look, _What bruises? What are you talking about?_ She reached her left hand to touch the place Dean's hand rested and realized exactly what he meant. She held her undamaged hand in front of her face and glanced down at her leg to feel for the burns and found nothing. It was in that moment she noticed their clothes. _White. Are we in heaven?!_ She asked in alarm.

Dean stood, straightened his white slacks, and helped Faith to her feet. "I don't think so."

"I know this is random, but this grass feels amazing." She lifted the hem of her dress to wiggle her toes between the bright green blades of grass.

"It's perfect." Dean said with concern as he glanced around the garden. The thick growth provided a limited view. They stood in a small clearing with a stone wall directly ahead of them that was spilling water into a pool at the base.

A sweet voice broke the silence, "Hello."

Dean turned to his right maneuvering Faith to a protected place behind him. A tall slender woman with flowing dark hair watched serenely as Dean took a defensive stance. She was clothed in a long white Egyptian gown with gold bracelets, belts, and necklaces. She was absolutely stunning.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

She didn't seem to notice Dean's deep menacing tone. "I am Hathor, goddess of love and joy. And this," She gestured to the garden around them, "this is one of my many temple gardens."

Dean started to interrupt with more demands, but she continued.

"You are here because you have made the decision to reject the love I have so freely bestowed upon you." She moved towards the fountain and sat on the edge looking deep into the water. "I gave you this gift because you are my children and I love you. I seek only your happiness." She turned to face them revealing beautiful features creased with sadness and concern.

"We're not your children." Faith spoke boldly as she stepped beside Dean.

"Nevertheless, I will grant you the separation you desire. Your fates will be your own. However, there is a price." She stood and gestured to the pool of water before she vanished.

"A bit cryptic."

"Seriously, can't gods ever just be specific!" Dean shouted at the air.

Faith moved towards the pool, but Dean grabbed her arm and held her back. She looked over her shoulder into his green eyes, _It's ok. I'm not sure how I know, but I just know it's okay._ He let her hand slide into his and followed close behind her until they stood looking into the pool.

"Looks like water."

Before Dean could make another comment the pool went completely still despite the waters continual pouring in from the stone wall. Their reflections dissipated and an image formed.

It was Faith and Dean standing hand in hand staring into one another's eyes. "You may now kiss the bride." said Castiel from behind them. They smiled and leaned in to share a sweet kiss. Turning to face their small group of family, Castiel gave the auspicious announcement, "I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Dean Winchester." There were applause and smiles and laughter. It was a beautiful moment.

The waters rippled revealing another image.

Dean sat on a couch in a small living room watching television, Faith slipping quietly down the stairs. She came behind the couch wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "I have something to tell you." She whispered in his ear. He turned to face her with a contented smile, "Oh yeah, what's that?" She held the pregnancy test in front of him and leaned to the side to gauge his reaction. The moment was priceless.

Movement on the water forced the picture to change.

Dean paced a dimly lit hallway with a small cooing bundle in his arms. Faith peeked out of a doorway and in a sleepy voice asked, "Are you singing Metallica?" Without looking up from the tiny person in his arms he said, "It always calms me down." Another little head popped out of a doorway down the hall. "What's all the noise, daddy?" Dean glanced up and looked at the sweet curly headed little girl standing in the doorway, "Nothing sweetheart. Just go back to bed." Faith was at his side in a moment kissing his cheek and heading off down the hall to tuck the young girl into bed.

The waters moved again revealing a new image.

Dean leaned under the hood of a 1970 Chevelle with a puzzled look on his face. Wiping the sweat from his forehead he leaned back and crossed his arms. Faith walked around the corner with a small boy on her hip. "Say 'hi, daddy'" she lifted the boy's small hand in the air waving it at Dean. "Hi there! And to what do I owe this surprise?" Faith smiled and gave him a kiss, "We wanted to bring you lunch. Sister is in school and we were a little fussy today. Mom needed out of the house." She spoke to the small boy who chewed on his fist watching his father wipe grease from his hands.

Time pushed the waters again.

Faith and Dean stood applauding in a large auditorium as they watched a beautiful young lady clad in a blue cap and gown walk proudly across the stage and wave to her parents. Dean put an arm around Faith's waist and leaned in, "We did good."

The images came faster.

Dean stood hand in hand with Faith as they handed their son a key to his first car.

Faith watched as Dean walked their daughter down the aisle.

Dean looked on as Faith danced with her only son at his wedding.

They stood arm in arm in front of a beautiful home down a long dusty road.

Years played through with happiness and joy. The waters rippled breaking the flow of images and returned the pool to its natural rhythm.

Faith's breath caught in her throat as the tears flowed freely down her face. Dean turned a tear stained face to meet hers and pulled her tightly to his chest.

"Faith." He whispered over the thundering of his heart. It was all he had ever imagined a life outside of hunting would be. It was peaceful and happy. He longed to walk away from it all and be with her alone, but the reality of the world he knew would not allow it. His heart ached for her but his head knew he couldn't have her.

Faith listened to his thoughts play through and knew he was right, but it didn't stop her wanting the life she had seen. The images were all she had ever dreamed true love could look like. A loving spouse, happy children, a successful marriage, these were the things she had once believed in. Those images were the glimmer of hope she needed to trust and love again, but were painfully yanked away knowing that this man had a greater purpose, a greater calling, and those images could never come true.

They wept in one another's arms for what seemed an eternity only to be broken by the steady calming voice of Hathor. "This is the love you sacrifice. This is the life you sacrifice. Your hearts have made the decision and this is the price of your rejection."

An explosion of golden light emitted from the fountain blinding them temporarily. Faith held to Dean and although he could not hear nor see her in the brightness, she tilted her chin and rested her lips against his ear and whispered, "I loved you."

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

Well...there's only one chapter left. I hope you're enjoying the read. Thank you so much for sticking with me! Final chapter will be posted Tuesday next week. I'd love to hear your take on this particular scene. I did tons of research on Hathor and what it all may have looked like and I hope you can see what I saw!

Thanks again!

xoxo, Jen


	21. Ch 21 - Though We Part

**Chapter 21 - Though We Part**

They stood frozen in place wrapped in the spell of lost love heartbroken for the moments that could have been. Faith held him and Dean held her. Eyelashes were thick and tears glistened on each cheek. It was a moment that neither would ever let slip from instantly recalling in their memories.

"You guys okay?" Sam's voice cut through the silence like a razor blade. His normally sweet voice stung at the implication that their moment was over. Dean was the first to pull away and look down into her face. He tilted her chin up to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

Sam looked on as the two slowly untangled their arms. Faith's hand rested in Dean's as she wiped away the moisture on her face.

 _Your bruises are gone._ Faith continued to wipe the tears away not looking up to meet his gaze. _Faith?_ Dean felt a distinct break in his heart at the silence in his mind.

Faith took a deep breath and chanced a look at Dean. _That was intense._ She paused and looked at him, truly looked at him. _Dean?_ A fresh tear slid down her red cheek. _You're gone, aren't you._ She asked even though she already knew. She could see in his face that he was searching for her as well. She let her hand slide from his and they stood untouched by the other for the first time in more than a day.

Sam repeated his question, "Are you guys okay?"

The spell was broken and Dean looked up to see his younger brother. "Yeah...yeah, we're okay. How long were we gone?"

"Gone? You didn't go anywhere." Sam looked puzzled.

He turned back to Faith, "How are you feeling?"

She glanced at her hands and felt her side, "I feel fine." Her physical pain was gone, but the heartache had just begun.

::::::

Faith took something for motion sickness and slept in the back seat of the Impala as Dean drove south the remainder of the night with Sam sound asleep in the passenger seat. She woke mid morning to find them pulling into a small diner in the middle of nowhere West Virginia. They ate in near silence only broken by the occasional comment from Sam on potential new cases. "There's a situation in Tucson that could use our help. Jared Thompson called and…"

"Mhmmm." Dean was obviously absent.

Sam closed the laptop and looked to Faith. "So, will you tell me what happened?"

Faith had a forkful of eggs an inch from her open mouth and froze momentarily before placing the fork back on her plate. "Umm...well, we...we saw Hathor…" She shifted uncomfortably as the scene played through her mind causing her to choke back the torrent of emotion and tears. "She...umm...she…" A single tear slid down her cheek as she attempted to continue, "She let us break the spell, but said…." Another tear slipped and she couldn't continue.

"I'm sorry, Faith." Sam said in complete sincerity. "I didn't realize."

"No, you don't, Sam." Dean snapped. "Leave it alone."

::::::

Faith leaned over the front seat the remainder of the ride home not wanting to take Sam's rightful place in the passenger seat. Dean drove in silence; no words, no music, and, to Faith's heartbreak, no thoughts. She let the silence fill her and dreaded what she knew would come next. Only one week had passed since these two men had walked into her life. Only one week since she first looked into those green eyes. Only one week since she first felt the touch of his skin beneath her fingers. It had only been one week and yet she felt an eternity had passed. She knew this man as well as she knew herself. _That's probably part of the punishment...to never forget._ She choked back the tears again. He was sitting right in front of her, inches away, and yet they were a thousand miles apart.

::::::

Dean focused on the road refusing to look in the rear view mirror at the beautiful blue eyes that continually held unshed tears. This woman that had thousands of thoughts in a single moment was completely silent. Her lips never moved and his heart ached to hear a single word. _She's probably glad to be getting rid of me. She'll be safe and happy back home living her own life._ He knew her as well as he knew himself. He knew that Faith would never think those things, but he did his best to convince himself those words were the truth. Although she was only inches away he distanced himself with every mile he drove convincing himself that it was for her own good, for her safety.

::::::

It was late afternoon when the sleek black Impala rolled into the driveway of the yellow sided house. Silently the trio exited the vehicle. Dean opened the trunk and pulled out her suitcase reminding Faith of the first time he slid it in with boisterous complaints in his head about _clothing an entire village_. Dean registered the same thought and they shared a small smile.

"Would you guys like to come in? Stay for dinner? I know there's plenty of food in there." Faith did her best to not sound like she was begging, but even she could hear the desperation in her voice.

"I don't see why not." Sam answered looking to Dean. He could see the emotional struggle that each one of them carried and thought it might be best for them to spend time together. Maybe they could unravel the mess that had been forced upon them.

Dean didn't utter a word, but followed them into the house.

::::::

An hour later Faith put plates out on the table intentionally ignoring the conversation happening just outside her back door on the small patio.

"She's pretty upset, Dean. It might not hurt to just talk it out with her."

Dean had both hands braced against the railing looking out into the leaf covered yard. He wasn't angry, he was broken. "What am I supposed to say, Sammy? I'm sorry I accidentally screwed up a couple weeks of your existence. Have a nice life. And then exit stage left!" Dean gestured to the yard as if it were his escape route.

"I don't know, man. I just know you can't leave her hanging like this."

He turned to Sam with a deadly serious tone, "We can't stay. I can't stay."

"I know." Sam said defeatedly. He wanted his brother to have a normal life as much as he had once wanted one himself.

"We've got big problems on the horizon." Dean braced his hands back on the railing.

"I know." Sam crossed his arms and looked out into the picturesque back yard.

The sliding glass door opened slightly and Faith's voice broke through the cool air, "Dinner's ready."

Dinner was awkward and notably silent. Faith knew they were leaving but hoped they would at least stay the night. None of them had gotten a good night sleep in several days. As she stood from the table and collected the empty plates she ventured the question, "So, where are you fellas off to next?" She attempted to keep her tone light.

"Maybe Tucson." Sam answered. "Depends on what Jared says when we finally catch up with him. In fact, I'm gonna step out onto the porch and try to call him again."

Faith and Dean both knew what he was up to and sighed in unison when they were finally left on their own. "Smooth."

Faith gave a small laugh as she deposited the remainder of the dishes in the sink. One by one she cleaned them and put them in the dishwasher. Dean watched unashamedly. As soon as her task was complete she dried her hands on a dish towel and turned to face him with a hand on her hip. He grinned at the southern sass she was portraying, but grew serious in an instant. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Her voice was strong and confident beyond what she could have ever felt. In the two words he spoke she could see that he was hurting just as she was. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

Dean rose from his chair and walked across the kitchen to face her. "For what? What in the world could you ever do that would need an apology."

He was so close, but Faith refused to touch him knowing that it would only make their lives more complicated and their parting more difficult.

Dean raised his eyebrows as he watched the play of emotions on her face, "I can't read your thoughts anymore, you know?"

She gave a humorless laugh. "Okay, then I'll try to tell you." This was the moment she knew would be most difficult. The freedom of expression between them had been pure and unfiltered, but now she would need to put into words her thoughts and feelings. Steeling herself against the emotional onslaught she stood tall and stated as matter of factly as she possibly could, "I'm sorry for all you've had to give and sacrifice in this world. I'm sorry that this world doesn't know what an amazing hero you are. I'm sorry that you can't have the normal life that you want...whether it be with me or someone else." Her resolve was wavering and Dean attempted to interrupt, but she stopped him with a raised hand. "Just let me finish." Her voice was small and almost a whisper. "I'm sorry you have to carry my baggage in addition to your own for the rest of your life. I'm sorry…" Dean put a hand on her arm as her eyes filled with tears, "I'm selfishly sorry that you can't stay." And with that she broke and he took her in his arms.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry." He whispered into her hair.

She didn't stay in his arms but for a moment when she pulled away and looked up at him, "I know I can't ask you to stay, but would you just stay for the night? You haven't slept in over 24 hours and I know Sam's tired too."

He nodded just as Sam walked back through the sliding glass door.

She pulled away and looked towards the pantry. "How about some homemade cookies?"

Sam piped up immediately, "That sounds great. Can't remember the last time we had any."

Dean smiled, "Any chance you bake pies?"

::::::

Faith and Dean were sitting comfortably side by side on the couch watching the end of a movie while Sam had already retired in the guest bedroom for the night. The house was warm and quiet and smelled of fresh baked goods. Dean's eyelids were sliding closed and his head was bobbing with exhaustion causing Faith to smile. The credits rolled and she gently rubbed his arm. "Hey, sleepy head. Movie's over."

"Hmm? Okay." Incoherently he stood facing her.

She placed a hand on either arm and looked up at him. "You're gone, aren't you."

"Pretty much." He gave a big yawn and stretch landing his arms around her and pulling her in close. She easily submitted to his embrace pushing the thoughts of the coming morning aside. He brushed a kiss on top of her head and then rested his forehead against hers. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you, too." Faith said with a shaky sigh. She didn't want to let him go and he didn't want to be let go. "Come to bed with me?" Her voice came timid and shy giving Dean just the right amount of push to say yes. He took her hand and led her through the bedroom door. Faith climbed under the covers and turned out the lamp. She paused before turning to face him. Without hesitation he pulled her body to his wrapping her in strong conforming arms. Neither one uttered a word, content in the silent embrace.

::::::

Dean woke to find Faith missing from the bed. The sunlight filtering through the bedroom window was bright with the onset of the day. The sounds and smells of breakfast slipped under the bedroom door. _I could get used to this._ He thought solemnly with a yawn and stretch.

::::::

Over breakfast, Sam and Dean discussed the upcoming case with Faith interjecting an occasional question or thought.

"That's not a bad idea." Sam said with raised eyebrows. "Might have to call you occasionally to help me make plans cause we know Dean sucks at it."

"Okay, seriously. That last one worked out perfectly."

Faith laughed, "You got lucky."

She was faking the smile and faking the laughter and faking the comments, but neither one of the men seemed to notice. If they did they never acknowledged it. She knew there would never be a visit, or a call, or a postcard. The moment was coming and her heart physically hurt.

::::::

Sam and Dean packed their clean clothes that Faith had insisted on washing and took the black duffel bags to the Impala. Dean's heart was racing as he faked the small talk and faked the jokes and faked the smile. He knew she could see right through him, but she didn't acknowledge it.

Sam wrapped Faith in a bear hug. "Bye, Faith. Take care of yourself. And call us if you ever need anything."

"I will." She said as her eyes filled with tears she forcefully held back, "Thank you, Sam. Thank you for everything."

"No problem."

"Look out for each other, please."

"We will." He gave her another quick hug and climbed in the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean stood by with hands in his pockets. She turned on her heels to face him with an exceptionally tight smile, "Well...this is it." She clinched her fists at here side digging fingernails into her palms to prevent the tears in her eyes from being shed. In her best southern drawl she beckoned him over, "Better get over here and give me a hug goodbye."

He gave her a small smile in return and gulped down his own emotions as he pulled her into a tight embrace. Refusing to let the moment sweep him away, he stepped back quickly and kissed her on the forehead. Intentionally looking over her head he said, "Take care of yourself." He turned back to the Impala and climbed into the driver's seat slamming the door. He slid the key in the ignition and turned over the engine, but he didn't move any farther. He sat staring out the windshield into the street as his mind ran circles around the events of the past week.

"You ok?" Sam questioned from beside him.

He didn't move. He just rested his hands on the steering wheel and watched the street.

"Dean?"

Before Sam could utter another word, Dean threw open the door of the Impala and stalked over to a teary eyed Faith. She looked confused and then surprised as he swept her off of her feet into a steely embrace. His lips pressed desperately against hers demanding, pleading for more. She opened her mouth to his and encircled his neck with her arms pulling his body tightly to hers. He pressed the kiss deeper and she responded willingly. The moment was deliciously sweet as they intentionally forgot their surroundings and focused on one another. Just as suddenly as the kiss had begun it ended. Dean leaned down to whisper into her ear and she felt the tear from his cheek slide onto hers, "I loved you."

He pulled away suddenly without another word and walked to the Impala. Faith took a heaving breath. _You heard me._

He paused with the Impala door in his hand and looked back over his shoulder before climbing into the driver's seat and putting his baby into gear.

 **THE END**

* * *

Disclaimer & Writers notes: I do not own or have rights to Supernatural or any of it's characters. Faith, on the other hand, is all mine.

This is it! Sigh. I loved writing this story. It has meant so much to me! I'm sure there are so many things that could have been done differently, but this is how it unfolded for me and I truly hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

To be completely honest there are a few points in this story I have agonized over! One being Dean's last line. I hope you'll forgive me for putting words into his mouth that he probably would not be saying so soon. I just felt like this whole situation had pushed him in a way he had never been before and those words, coming in the past tense and in reference to all that was lost, could be something he might be willing to put out there as he walked away. If you'd prefer it be something else then just use your imagination :)

Thank you so very much for sticking with me! Thank you for forgiving the mistakes! Thank you for each read and each review!

And...well...there may or may not be another story in the works. What do you think? Should we do this crazy ride again!?

Love you guys! xo,Jen


End file.
